Masked Denial
by xDreamerx
Summary: Granger, did you come all the way out here to rescue me?" He smirked. "What? No. I was--" "Sneaking out of the castle." "-To take a stroll--" "With an invisibility cloak?"... "I hate you." "Quite the contrary. Hermione Granger, I believe you fancy me."
1. Home, Sweet, Home

**Masked Denial**

**Disclaimer:** I am not British, middle aged, or blonde. Therefore, I do not own any of the characters you recognize.

**Full Summary:** It's seventh year at Hogwarts and a stressful time for Hermione Granger. Between Head Girl duties and managing her schoolwork and friends, things tend to get a little chaotic. To make it worse, the Head Boy happens to be none other than the detestable Draco Malfoy! Only, this year isn't like the others. With Voldemort attacks being as frequent as they are, Professor Dumbledore needs a way to keep the students safe at Hogwarts. So, he stumbles across the idea of a formal ball every few months to keep the students interested. But, what happens when Hermione starts falling for a mystery boy from the ball? With the planning for the balls and all the work needed to be done on a new Hogwarts magazine that has just started, the Heads seem to be spending a lot of time together. What will this lead to?

**Author's Note:** OK, I'm really sorry that The Trouble With Love got deleted... apparently you're not supposed to post song lyrics and I didn't know that... but it's OK. This is the second story that I mentioned that I was starting, and I thought that I'm post it while I continue to work on TTWL. I'm am currently re-writing TTWL and I'm on chapter three. Once I re-write enough to post for a long time, I'll re-post The Trouble with Love. Sound OK? OK, well, in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this story. I really love it, even though I'm not very far along on it, which means that I won't be posting every week. Hopefully I'll post every few weeks, because summer is a stressful time for me, so... Well, I'm done talking, so I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 1- Home, Sweet, Home**

_**The song for this chapter is "Last Train Home" by Lostprophets**_

Platform nine and three quarters was overly crowded with Hogwarts students on September first. The Hogwarts Express stood gleaming, waiting for the children to board it so that it could take them to Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

For seventeen-year-old Hermione Granger, this was anything but new. She stood at the platform, watching the scarlet train, contemplating the fact that this was her last year at Hogwarts. Truth be told, she knew she would miss it.

As she watched the children around her-- first year students looking petrified, twelve-year-olds acting like they knew everything-- she knew things were never going to be the same after graduation. She had a feeling that this year at Hogwarts, something spectacular was going to happen. However, she had no idea that this something would mess with her emotions, priorities, and friendships.

Hermione took a deep breath, savoring the scent that told her she was near Hogwarts; the scent that said she was home. She picked up her trunk and Crookshank's cage, only to have them knocked out of her hands and onto the ground.

"Hermione! We missed you! How have you been?"

Hermione recognized Harry's voice and his familiar scent as her head was pushed against his chest when he pulled her into a tight hug.

"I'm good, Harry. How are you?" Came the muffled reply. Harry let go of her and took a step back.

"I'm doing alright. Wow, look at you! You look great!"

This was the truth. Hermione had grown a bit over the summer, but felt so small with Harry towering a good three inches above her. She had definitely filled out and it was hard to believe that the girl standing before Harry was the bookworm prefect he had known for all of his Hogwarts education. While her hair was still the brown mess it had always been, it seemed to shine in the light and frame around her delicate face.

"And you!" She replied. "Look how tall you are!"

Harry had filled out as well. He wasn't the short weakling he used to be, but had grown a great deal taller and muscular. His hair was longer, covering the scar which had made him famous. Hermione smiled as she remembered how much Harry had complained about it in the past. She figured he was tired of being known as his press name "The Boy Who Lived."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed a flash of red and turned her head in just enough time to see Ron running towards her. He collided into her and wrapped her into a brief hug.

Ron hadn't changed much over the summer, but he was different. He was no longer the scrawny little boy he used to be. He had grown quite a bit and was just slightly shorter than Harry. He too had filled out and had grown his hair out so that it was in his eyes most of the time. Ron's hair was the vibrant colour it had always been, and Hermione was glad, because it reminded her that some things never change.

Hermione noticed that her two best friends had grown a great deal more handsome. She knew that there would be two more heartbreakers at Hogwarts.

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione heard. When Ron pulled away from Hermione to greet Harry, Hermione saw Ginny walking towards her, shaking her head at her brother.

"Hello, Hermione," she called.

"Hello, Ginny." Hermione gave Ginny a gentle hug before turning back to Harry and Ron.

"Alright, Harry, Hermione?" Ron asked. Hermione and Harry nodded.

The train whistle blew, announcing the time was eleven o'clock and that it would be leaving. Harry, Hermione, and the two Weasleys picked up their trunks and proceeded to the Hogwarts Express. They quickly found an empty compartment, stored their trunks in the luggage rack, and sat, making themselves comfortable for the long ride ahead of them.

"Gosh, Hermione! Why didn't you tell us you made Head Girl?" Ginny exclaimed, being the first person the notice the shiny badge attatched to Hermione's robes.

"I didn't think it was that important," Hermione replied quietly.

"Not important? Congratulations!" Ron said.

"Way to go!" Harry responded.

"We have to go to the prefect compartment anyway. Come on, Ron, Ginny."

As Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were stepping out of the compartment to head to the prefect compartment, Seamus, Dean, and Neville walked into the room, sitting down to accompany Harry. Hermione shut the door behind her.

"I wonder who the Head Boy is," Dean commented.

* * *

"I wonder who the Head Boy is," Ginny said as the three of them reached their destination. Hermione opened the door to the compartment and let Ron and Ginny go inside before herself. Then she stepped inside herself and looked at everyone's prefect badge, searching for the Head Boy badge.

_Who's the Head Boy?_ Hermione thought. She sat down after nonchalantly looking through everyone's badge. _He's late! How can he be late? That's just so rude and--_

"Malfoy!" She exclaimed, seeing him walk through the closed door and shut it behind himself.

"Well, well, well. Granger made Head Girl," he replied, smirking. He sat at the farthest seat from her and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Big surprise there. Who knew?"

"Shut up, Malfoy. I'm just wondering how you managed to make Head Boy. Who'd you father have to pay off so that you'd get it?" This only made the smirk on his face grow and Hermione rolled her eyes.

_With Malfoy as Head Boy,_ she thought. _This is going to be a long, miserable year!_

* * *

"Well, that was certainly interesting," Ginny commented as she, Hermione, and Ron started to walk back to their compartment.

"I can't believe Malfoy, of all people, is Head Boy!" Hermione exclaimed.

"You should resign as Head Girl," Ron told her.

"Ron!" Ginny and Hermione scolded at the same time.

"This is a brilliant opprotunity!" Hermione explained. "And I won't let Draco Malfoy ruin it for me. I'm better than that and I won't let him get to me."

"That's right, Hermione. Don't stoop to his level," Ginny said, opening the door for Ron and Hermione.

"Harry, what're you doing all by yourself?" Ron asked, sitting next to him.

"Oh, Seamus, Dean, and Neville left a few minutes ago," he responded, picking up _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

"Well, you'll never guess who made Head Boy," Ginny replied casually. She picked up a _Teenwitch Monthly_ magazine.

"Who?"

"Malfoy," Ron told him disgustedly.

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said, wincing.

"It's OK. It's not like I'll have to spend much time with him. As long as I stay out of his way and he stays out of mine, what can go wrong? Anyway, I'm starving. We didn't get to eat at all."

They spent the remainder of the train ride eating and talking about each of their summers. Somehow, Hermione couldn't get rid of the thought that she would be spending more time with Malfoy than she had ever wanted.

* * *

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

It was nice to hear Hagrid's familiar voice telling Hermione that she was finally home.

"I'll see you guys later," Ginny told Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Ginny waved to some of her friends and went over to them, continuing to the Hogwarts castle with them.

"Alright there, Harry, Ron, 'ermione?" Came Hagrid's booming voice from above them.

"Hey, Hagrid," Harry shouted up to him.

"How are you, Hagrid?" Ron asked. Hermione just smiled, not believing she had the voice to shout above the students around her.

"Congratulations on Head Girl, 'ermione!" Hagrid said.

"Thanks! We better go! See you, Hagrid!" Hermione replied as she, Harry, and Ron piled into a carriage that held Ginny and her giggling friends.

Hermione gazed out the window at the castle she had come to fall in love with. She couldn't wait to see what this year would bring for Hogwarts, for herself, and, most importantly, for her Head Girl position.

* * *

"Welcome to another spectacular year at Hogwarts!" Dumbledore beamed at all the students over his half-moon spectacles. "I hope that this year will bring great things, unexpected friendships, and a change of heart. First off, I would like to remind everyone that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden, and anyone who decides to go near it will be severely punished. Secondly, I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Braccola. He has studied the Dark Arts in Egypt for ten years and is fully capable and ready to teach what he has learned!"

Polite applause was heard throughout the Great Hall as the headmaster gestured to the new teacher. Professor Braccola was a very young man with dark hair and complexion. He stood shyly, accepting the applause.

"Thank you," Professor Dumbledore continued. "Thirdly, I would like to introduce our Head Girl, Hermione Granger." Hermione stood and applause erupted, the loudest coming from the Gryffindor table. "And the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy." A much louder applause was heard as the much more popular Head stood, smirking. "Now, I don't want to delay your dinner any longer, so I only have one more thing to say. Prefects, once you have shown your houses to their common rooms and have told them the password, please join the Head Boy and Girl and myself back in the Great Hall for a brief meeting. Thank you, and let the feast begin!"

The food appeared magically onto each table, with a few small gasps coming the First Year students.

Hermione smiled at Harry, glad that things were finally back to normal.

* * *

After dinner, Hermione took a seat at the end of the Hufflepuff table, next to Dumbledore, who was sitting at the head of the table. Draco took the seat across from Hermione, on the other side of Dumbledore.

One by one, the other prefects entered the Great Hall, wearing puzzled looks, wondering why Professor Dumbledore had called this meeting. Ron sat next to Hermione, glaring at Malfoy; Ginny sat next to her brother, looking at the Headmaster with interest.

"Now that everyone is present," Dumbledore began, as the last prefect sat down. "Let's get started. I'm sure you're all wondering the reason I have called you here, and I assure you, it is an excellent reason."

Hermione exchanged puzzled looks with Ron and Ginny and then turned back to Professor Dumbledore, listening with abaited interest.

"I'm happy to say that, because of recent complaints from parents stating how they don't know what their children are up to at school, we're going to be coming out with a Hogwarts magazine!" Gasps and squeals of delight were heard among the prefects. Draco pretended like he didn't care as he watched Hermione with interest. Hermione had a spark of excitement in her eyes and was biting her bottom lip, obviously trying to contain her enthusiasm.

"I'm going to need all of you to work on putting together this magazine. You'll need to come up with a name for it, design it, put in articles, and put it out once a week. I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge of this, so if you have any questions, you may go to either of them for answers. I will fill them in Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy about this project. They will be the editors and they are in charge, so, remember, what they say goes!" Dumbledore looked around the room to the eager faces before continuing again. "And, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, remember to think about what is best for the magazine. You two will be spending a lot of time on perfecting this and be spending numerous amounts of time with each other, so I can't wait to see what the ending result will be."

Hermione looked across the table to her enemy and narrowed her eyes with contempt. Her look only grew colder when Malfoy smirked in return.

"There's one more thing," Dumbledore continued. "Because of the rise in attacks of Voldemort," shudders came from around the table at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "I am trying to keep students here over the breaks. So, I decided that it would be fun to have five wonderful balls. Now, they will not only be over the breaks, but throughout the year. And to liven it up, students will wear masks, hiding their identity. There will be a spell put onto the masks that will allow them to be taken off, only after midnight on the night of each ball. I need the Heads to be in charge of these as well, and the prefects will need to help with the planning and decorating. That is all, and thank you. Prefects, I ask you to not tell anyone about this, for I will announce it when everything is planned. Prefects may go. Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger," Dumbledore began. "We have some planning to do!"

* * *

Hermione came from the Great Hall an hour later. Exhausted. She headed up to the Gryffindor Tower and stepped into the common room.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron said. He and Harry were in the common room playing chess.

"I'm so tired. I never knew being Head Girl was so tiring!"

"Um, Hermione?" Harry started to say. "Don't the Heads have their own rooms?" Hermione sighed, covering her face with her hands. She turned around and walked back to the door.

"Night," she said to Ron and Harry.

"Goodnight," the two boys responded.

Hermione walked down the corridor to where she knew the Heads' rooms were.

_Great. Not only do I have to be a Head with Malfoy, work on the magazine with Malfoy, and attend classes with Malfoy, but I have to live with him as well! This is just brilliant,_ Hermione thought. She finally reached the portrait and examined it with interest.

It was a portrait of what looked like a fairy. She was tiny and had short pink hair and glittering wings. She was wearing a purple dress.

"Hello! You must be the Head Girl!" The fairy exclaimed. "My name's Daisy." She giggled. "I'd say you're one lucky girl! That Draco Malfoy is really something!" Daisy blushed and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Plaid Hippogriff!" Hermione sighed, not wanting to hear exactly what Daisy thought about her fellow Head.

"Right, dear! In you go!" The portrait swung open and Hermione sighed, stepping inside.

"Get lost, Granger?" Came a familiar drawl from somewhere near the fireplace. Hermione hoped she was just imagining things as she turned towards the direction of the voice.

"Malfoy. We're going to have to be spending a lot of time together planning the balls and working out everything for the magazine. Wouldn't it be easiest to stay on civil terms?"

"And what makes you think that I want to be civil to a Mudblood like you?"

"You know what, Malfoy? If you don't stop--"

_Knock, knock!_

Draco and Hermione's heads turned to the direction of the door. Dumbledore appeared through it and stepped inside, eyes twinkling.

"I hope you find everything to your satisfaction," he said. Hermione nodded. "Excellent. As for planning the balls, I thought we'd have one every two months, so the first one should be somewhere near October. Also, if it's not too much work, it would be greatly appreciated if you could get the first edition of the magazine out the first week of October so that they can be owled to parents and such. Thank you and I suggest you two get to bed! Classes start tomorrow!" After a final smile, the headmaster left.

"I'm going to bed," Hermione stated.

"And I care why?" Draco replied, smirking.

Hermione rolled her eyes and walked to her bedroom, wondering why she had ever wanted to be Head Girl.

* * *

Hermione awoke the next morning and before she opened her eyes she hoped that the previous night had been a dream. It would still be summer and any moment now her father would come into her room and tell her to wake up.

Hermione opened her eyes and groaned when she saw the maroon and gold of her Hogwarts room. She sat up and scratched Crookshanks behind his ears, waking him. Crookshanks shot Hermione a glare for disturbing his slumber and he left to find a place where he could sleep in peace. Hermione rolled her eyes and set off for the shower, hoping Draco wouldn't be in the common room.

Glancing at the clock after returning from her shower told Hermione the reason she had not seen Draco in the common room. It was barely five o'clock. He wouldn't be awake yet.

The Head Girl brushed her hair and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

"You might want a touch of make-up to hide those dreadful bags under your eyes," the mirror told her. Hermione glared in reply.

Make-up. She had never touched the stuff. She didn't want to become one of those girls who relied on it constantly and felt that they couldn't go a day without it. She rather liked the person she had become to be and refused to change because a stupid mirror told her she should.

After putting a silencing charm on her mirror, the Head girl smiled and pulled her wet locks into a ponytail. She set off for the Heads' common room and on the table there she found the information for the magazine. She began to work on it.

"I thought the Heads were supposed to work on that together," came a cold voice. Hermione looked up to see Draco standing there, wearing nothing but his boxers and a towel slung over his shoulder. Hermione looked back down at what she had been working on so not to gape at his choice of pajamas. She could almost hear him smirking.

"I figured you wouldn't want to work with me, just as I don't want to work with you. Plus, you were sleeping, and Merlin forbid you don't get your twelve hours of sleep each night," Hermione snapped back. She looked up to see Malfoy smirking.

"If anything, I think I have the worst end of the deal, working with you," he replied as he walked to the bathroom. Hermione sighed, continuing to work, wondering why the library wouldn't open before breakfast.

* * *

When Hermione finally walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, she breathed a sigh of relief. She took her usual seat between Ron and Harry and across from Ginny and a few of Ginny's friends. Starting to fill her plate, Hermione didn't even look up when she heard the fluttering of feathers. She only put her hand in the air to retrieve her edition of the _Daily Prophet_ that she had been receiving since fourth year.

"Good morning," Hermione said to the people surrounding her. Similar choruses of 'good morning' reached her ears.

"Have a fun night, Hermione," Ginny teased.

"Of course," she responded. "I had such a fun night that I woke up early, locked myself in my room and worked all morning. Unfortunately, the library doesn't open before breakfast, no matter how much you beg."

"Only you would try that," Ron told her.

"So, how horrible is sharing a room with Malfoy?" Harry asked. Hermione groaned.

"I'm hoping that as long as I stay out of his way he'll stay out of mine. It's worse that he have to work on the—oh, sorry! I'm not supposed to say anything!"

"Hermione!" Harry scolded.

"I'm sorry! Dumbledore is going to announce it when all the plans have been made. All I can say is that there is a 'project' going on at Hogwarts this year and Malfoy and I are in charge of it. We have to plan everything about it. More time I have to spend with Malfoy." Hermione sighed.

"I don't see how he made Head Boy anyway…" Hermione heard Ron say. She looked across the Great Hall and a bright shade of silver-blonde caught her eyes. Only Malfoy.

Hermione's eyes lingered on him. Draco looked up and his eyes caught hers. She looked away after a moment, his silver orbs still burning in her mind.

"…Just because he's a stupid Slytherin he thinks—"

"I'm going to the library," Hermione said, cutting off Ron.

"Hermione—" Harry started to say.

"I told you that I can't get much work done with Malfoy around so I should get some work done while I can and that time is now. I'll see you guys later," Hermione told them.

The Head Girl stood and started to walk out of the Great Hall. She looked over her shoulder once, but the only eyes that seemed to meet hers were a pair of cold silver ones sending what Hermione could only guess was hatred.

**Author's Note: **OK! So, there was originally a lot more of Chapter 1, but things got messed up and I thought things were happening WAY too quickly between D and H, so I'm going to shorten every chapter a little bit and have more chapters. Maybe it sounds messed up, but it makes sense to me!

Anyway, I really hope you liked chapter 1, because I love this story so much! It's turning out to be so cute!

Please, PLEASE look up the lyrics for the songs for each chapter. They really are great songs and for most of the chapters the songs really go with and are meant to be with the chapter, so please look them up! Thanks!

I do have to say that the whole magazine idea wasn't originally mine! The credit goes to **attica**, who has a newspaper in her fic. I hope that she doesn't get mad at me! It will be totally different, I promise! Anyway, her fic is absolutely AMAZING, so please check it out! It's **Basketcase** and it's one of the best fics I've ever read! Though, because her fic is so good, I'm scared that people will ditch my fic! Please stay with me!

The whole ball thing was my idea… I like balls! If any of you have seen the movie "A Cinderella Story" I kinda stole the mask idea from that, but it is going to be NOTHING like the movie! I'm not ripping my ideas off anything or anyone!

Well, thanks for reading and I'm SO sorry that TTWL got deleted! Don't be mad at me! I keep forgetting to do more re-writes, so you all will have to remind me! Also, I keep forgetting to write more of this fic, so I'll probably need reminders for that too!

Again, thanks for suffering through this long A/N, and please don't forget to review! Don't forget about me!

xDreamerx


	2. Busyness Galore

**Author's Note: **Thank you to everyone who actually read my chapter 1! I think it's a cute beginning so thanks! Chapter 2 is when everything starts happening, so I hope you like this chapter!

**Chapter 2- Busyness Galore**

_**The song for this chapter is "All you Wanted" by Michelle Branch**_

"I think we should have a prefect meeting tonight," Hermione told Draco as she walked into the common room after the last class of the day had ended.

"Why?" He asked, marking the place in the book he had been reading.

"Because we really need to get going on the magazine. We should decide what we're going to put in it and who's going to write the articles," she told him, leaning against the couch opposite of the one he was sitting on.

"We don't need to get the first edition out until October. That's a whole month away."

"I know, but I think it'll take a while to get writers for the articles and write the first edition of the magazine. We still have to name it anyway…"

"Whatever you say, Granger. _You _can be in charge of owling everyone to notify them of _your _meeting."

"Fine," Hermione replied, sighing. She dropped her books off in her room and walked to the owlery.

_I can't believe Mudblood Granger made Head Girl. I, of course, have no doubt that I would make Head Boy, _Draco thought once Hermione had exited the room. _But, working all year with a Mudblood? Disgusting. Father would tell me to resign. He didn't seem to care much that I made Head Boy… I was just expected to make it. I wonder what he would have done if I hadn't made Head Boy. _Draco shuddered at the thought. _I can't resign, though. Head Boy is all I've ever wanted. To hell with Lucius. This is for me and Granger be damned, I won't quit. At least I'm safe and away from father at Hogwarts. _

Draco began to think about how unbearable life had been with his father. His father kept trying to get Draco to join Voldemort because he was to be Voldemort's heir, but Draco had always either pushed away the topic or avoided his father altogether. He was destined to become a Death Eater, but the truth was, he didn't want to. Lucius would tell him he was weak and somehow force Draco to join the Dark Side, and Draco knew he probably and definitely had to become a Death Eater, but that would mean his entire life would be planned for him. He didn't want that; he didn't want to turn out like his parents. Despite suspicions, Draco Malfoy did not want to become a Death Eater.

"OK," Hermione said at the prefect meeting that night. Every prefect and Draco were staring at her expectedly. "OK," she repeated. "We all know why we're here tonight." The Head Girl looked around the room and saw confusion. She sighed. "The magazine and planning of the Masquerade balls. Um, I was thinking that we should start with the magazine because it needs a lot more work than the balls do. So, um, I guess the first thing we should do is name the magazine. Any suggestions?" Hermione looked around the room but no one said anything. She looked to Malfoy, silently pleading him for help.

"Come on," Draco said not even standing as he addressed his fellow prefects. "Even _you_ all can think of something as simple as the name for the magazine. If you have an idea, throw it in."

"How about 'Hogwarts' Happenings'?" A quiet voice came from a young, meek Hufflepuff girl. Draco laughed out loud.

"Malfoy!" Hermione scolded.

"What? You heard it," Draco told her laughing again.

"Oh, and you could think of something better?"

"Actually, I could," Draco told her. She raised her eyebrows.

"Then, would you like to enlighten the rest of us about your so-called brilliant ideas?" She retorted, eyes narrowed.

"'Hogwarts' Habits,'" he said simply. Chatter began about that idea and everyone seemed to love it. Hermione stood, arms across her chest, an annoyed look on her face. She couldn't believe they liked Malfoy's idea! She sighed.

"Fine. We'll use _Malfoy's_ idea," she replied. Malfoy smirked and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess the next thing we need to do is decide what to put in the magazine. We need to put in an article for each class explaining what each year is doing in that class, so that'll probably take up most of the magazine. Is there anything else you all think we should include?"

"Quidditch!" Came a voice.

"Advice Column!"

"Should we have a section for the latest news in the Wizarding world?" Ginny asked.

"I don't think so, because that's what the _Daily Prophet_ is for. But I think we should have a section for upcoming events in, like trips to Hogsmeade and the Masquerade balls," Hermione responded. She wrote down the suggestions on a piece of spare parchment. "So, the next thing is getting writers for each section. Now, there's twelve classes, so that means twelve writers, plus the current events section, plus the Quidditch and the advice sections. So in all, that's fifteen writers. I can ask Professor Dumbledore is he'll announce the magazine tomorrow at dinner and we can talk about it and tell everyone that we need writers. They can owl any one of us with samples of their writing and we'll have another meeting in say… two weeks to decide on writers. You all can submit samples too. Um, anything else, Malfoy?"

"No, you've done enough talking for the both of us," he replied. Hermione ignored him.

"So, I guess that's it. I'll owl you all with the time for the next meeting and we'll be presenting all the information on the magazine, and probably the balls, tomorrow at dinner. That's all. You can go," Hermione said promptly. All the prefects hurriedly left, except Ginny who stayed around a minute.

"How did I do for my first meeting?" Hermione asked Ginny.

"Great! I thought you took control nicely!"

"Thanks! I have more work to do, so I'll see you, OK?" Ginny nodded and left. Draco rolled his eyes.

Draco sat while Hermione gathered the pieces of parchment she had written on.

"Aww, how sweet," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"So, what are we doing about the balls?" He asked Hermione.

"Why are you asking me?"

"You seem to be making all the decisions."

"That's only because you wouldn't say anything. I guess we should just plan the first ball for the middle of October. I believe the fifteenth is a Saturday. Does that sound good?"

"What do _you _think? _You're_ making all the plans anyway."

"_I _think you're being a prat for no reason."

"Whatever," he replied and he walked out of the room.

Hermione sighed and remembered that she still had to talk to Dumbledore and finish a few essays for potions, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes before she could go to sleep.

"Well, I won't keep you long," Dumbledore said at dinner the next night. "But I do have some announcements. A few things will be happening at Hogwarts this year. The first thing: we will be having five balls in which every student will be masked, to liven things up. There will be a spell on each of your masks so that they cannot be removed until midnight on the night of each ball. Now, our Head Girl has informed me that our first ball will be October fifteenth." Draco rolled his eyes. "Dress robes will be worn for these balls and I have asked _Gladrags_, one of the robe shops in Hogsmeade, to have a special on a variety of masks for your purchase. I believe there will be a trip to Hogsmeade between now and the first ball, so dress robes and masks may be purchased then.

"For our second order of business, there will be one more thing happening this year. A magazine will be coming out for the parents and students." A reaction similar to the prefects' could be seen around the Great Hall. "It will be a weekly magazine," Dumbledore continued, his voice overpowering everyone else's. "And it well let the parents know what's going on at Hogwarts and what their children are learning. Now, I believe Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy have more information for us." Hermione and Draco stood from their seats across the room and made their way to the front of the Great Hall.

"The magazine's name is 'Hogwarts' Habits,'" Hermione began, ignoring Draco's smirk. "And the sections will be an article from each class explaining what each year is working on in that class, there will be a Quidditch section, advice column, and a current events section, for the students. We need fifteen writers for the articles and every year is eligible to try out at a writer. You just need to send in a sample of your writing to Malfoy, any of the prefects, or myself."

"In two weeks we won't accept any more samples and all the prefects will have a meeting to decide who our writers will be," Malfoy explained. "The first edition should be our somewhere around the first week of October, so that means once we pick the writers, they'll have about a week to write their article. That means that as soon as they know that they are the writer for their section, they'll have start writing right away. Granger and I are the editors and we are supposed to put it all together too." Malfoy rolled his eyes and no one missed it. "So, I guess that's pretty much it."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore exclaimed, clasping his hands together. "If you have any questions, you may speak with our prefects or Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger. With that being said, you all may go and have a good night. Sweet dreams!" He winked.

Everyone left the Great Hall, talking about nothing but Hogwarts' upcoming events.

It was raining when Draco awoke. A week had passed since the Hogwarts students had been informed of this year's overwhelming activities.

Draco stood from his bed and glanced through a gap in his forest green curtains while passing the window. When he noticed the droplets of liquid falling from the weeping sky, he stopped to gaze at it a moment longer.

Drops of rain stuck to the glass, refusing to let go of the one thing they knew was safe. The rain blurred Draco's vision as he continued to stare at the sky, wondering what this day would bring upon him. He never believe any of the 'sky predicting the day's events' nonsense, but briefly wondered if the sky was telling him what sort of day he would be having. He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts and headed off to the shower, trying to shake the thoughts about the upcoming day from his head.

_"I love you, Hermione," Draco said. "Tell me you love me too. I see the glances you give me when you think no one's looking."_

_"What're you talking about?" Hermione exclaimed, bewildered. They were standing in the common room, but it wasn't long before he had cornered her in his room. "Get out! You're not supposed to be in here!"_

_"Oh, so that's how it has to be, _Hermione_?" The way he said her name sent shivers down her spine. Draco advanced on her and soon Hermione was forced onto her bed. Suddenly, he grabbed her waist. She struggled, but couldn't seem to free herself from Draco's grasp. _

_"What're you doing, Malfoy? Get off me!" Hermione screamed. Draco smiled and pulled her close._

_"What did I do to deserve you calling me by my last name? Why must you always play hard-to-get with me? You know it drives me crazy!" He smiled wider, pulling Hermione even closer. And then, all at once, he kissed her._

_Hermione felt dizzy and like the world was spinning. She lost herself in the kiss and it wasn't long before she was the one pulling him closer, not getting enough of _Draco_…_

Hermione awoke screaming. She took a look at her surroundings and found out immediately that she had fallen asleep in the common room. Her heart raced as she remembered the details of her dream.

Draco ran into the room from the bathroom, his hair dripping and a towel around his waist.

"Bloody Hell, Granger!" He said.

"I-I had a bad dream. About… about yo-"

"I thought you were being attacked!" Draco cut her off. "Unfortunately, you weren't."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione replied, blushing at the sight of Draco in his towel and connecting that image with her horrible dream. Draco left, heading back to the bathroom.

_What was that about?_ Hermione asked herself. _What kind of dream was that?_

She sighed and shook her head, her cheeks still the tiniest shade of pink as she walked into her room.

Hermione still looked flustered when she stepped into the Great Hall for breakfast.

"What happened to you, Hermione?" Ginny asked as Hermione took her usual seat across from Ginny.

"Oh, nothing. I just had a bad dream," She replied. She looked past Ginny to the Slytherin table, but Draco wasn't there. She wrinkled her forehead in confusion, but shook her head, forcing herself to pay attention to anything but Malfoy.

Draco had received another letter from his father that morning. When he had finished his shower, he went back into his room where a letter was awaiting him.

His father had started off with the usual rambling about how Draco's mother was doing, and then the familiar speech on Draco becoming a Death Eater.

But then, he had ordered Draco to do something that, though he would never admit it, scared him. Draco's father had commanded him to come home for Christmas vacation to be branded with the Dark Mark.

Though it was still a while off, this frightened Draco more than he'd like to admit. He had never wanted to follow in his father's footsteps; he had never wanted to become a Death Eater.

Sure, when he was a child he wanted to be just like his father. What child doesn't want to be like his or her parents? But that dream ended quickly. Draco stopped idolizing his father when he found out the truth about being one of Voldemort's followers.

Draco shuddered as he remembered the stories his father had told him about torturing muggles, trying to justify what he did, trying to make Draco believe that it was the right thing. Each story Lucius told Draco become more intense until he was describing each attack in full detail.

That was when Draco had stopped wanting to be his father. He had been taught that he was better than all muggles and that they deserved no respect and he had believed it until he came to Hogwarts and people like Hermione Granger had proven him wrong.

Draco sighed and lay down on his bed. What was he supposed to do now?

When Hermione stepped into Arithmancy that day, she took her usual seat next to Dean. She sighed in relief to finally be back in her favourite class. She smiled and Dean and tried to direct her attention to the talking professor, but couldn't help noticing that a certain Slytherin was missing…

_How could I possibly care that he's missed breakfast and all of the classes I've had with him? He's been nothing less than horrible to me and all of the Gryffindors since the day I met him, so why should I care? He wouldn't if things were switched and I had missed every class._

Hermione knew the kind of person she was and she knew that she did care, even if he was her enemy. She knew she cared because he was a person too, even if he had been horrible to the Gryffindors, her in particular.

_I have to drop off my books after Arithmancy anyway, so I'll just make sure everything's alright with him while I'm there. _She inwardly groaned. _I'm going to regret this later!_

"All right there, Hermione?" Dean whispered to her.

"Yeah, of course," she replied, smiling. She gave a nervous look to Dean when the professor looked sternly at the pair, which Dean responded with a shy smile.

_Yeah, I'm _definitely_ going to regret this later!_

Hermione hurried to her room after class, though she didn't know why. He was Malfoy, her enemy! She reassured herself by convincing herself that he had just decided to skip classes that day and was in his room, perfectly fine, not a hair harmed on his perfect silver-blonde head.

Hermione quietly stepped into her bedroom and plopped her books onto her bed, disturbing a very annoyed Crookshanks. Draco hadn't been in the common room; that meant only one thing—he was in his bedroom.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione stood and walked slowly to his room. Picking up a shaky hand, she knocked cautiously on his door, and not a second later, it opened.

"Granger? What do you want?" Draco snapped. Hermione briefly looked past him into his room. The colours were green and silver, obviously, and it surprised Hermione to find that his room was neater than her own.

"I, um… you… you missed all your morning classes," she blurted out, looking at her feet.

"Yeah, and? I think I know that I missed my classes." He made a move to shut the door, but Hermione put her hand out and stopped it.

"I, uh… I just wanted to, um--"

"Aww, I'm touched, Granger," he said, sarcastically. "You wanted to see if I was alright, didn't you?"

"Well, I, um, yeah."

"Hate to break it to you, but I'm out of your league," he smirked. Hermione flushed.

"No, that's not what I meant—"

"Don't worry, Granger. I'm sure someone will eventually want mudblood fifth like you."

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She raised her hand and slapped his perfect pale cheek. The stinging sound seemed to echo in the hallway.

"How dare you!" Hermione yelled at him. She looked up to meet his eyes but saw that they were covered by his golden hair. For an instant she wanted to brush the hair from his eyes, but resisted and continued to yell. "How dare you call me a 'mudblood'! If anything you should be ashamed for your back round and Death Eater father! I'll bet you're following in his footsteps and are Death Eater already!"

Draco stepped towards her, an unknown fire blazing in his eyes. He yanked her wrist so that she would have to look him in the eyes.

"I'm not my father," he said, his voice low and dangerous. Hermione panicked at his tone, her eyes wide and scared. "I'm not a Death Eater."

Draco stepped back into his room, slamming the door behind him. Hermione stood in the hallway between their rooms for a long time, just staring at Draco's door.

A week later, Dumbledore made the announcement that they were no longer accepting samples of writing. That night, Hermione held a prefect meeting. She hadn't spoken to Draco since the incident in their hallway, so Hermione was somewhat curious to see how this meeting would turn out.

When everyone was seated in the meeting room, chatter began among the prefects. Hermione looked at Draco to start the meeting, but he refused to look at anything but the wooden table they all sat at. He seemed to be studying it.

"OK, then," Hermione began. All eyes were transfixed on her, making her feel sick with nervousness. "Well, we're supposed to pick the writers. There's a stack for each of you in front me." Hermione pointed to several stacks of writing samples. "So, I guess everyone can take a stack and read through them. If you find an especially well written one then you can hand it to Malfoy or myself and we'll decide who the writers will be. Sound good?"

"Doesn't seem fair," someone said.

"Hey, you heard her. She's _Head Girl_. That means what she says goes," Malfoy replied, surprising everyone in the room, but mostly himself.

"Um, th-thanks, Malfoy," Hermione responded, smiling to him. He glared at the table, upset at himself for speaking out.

"I just don't like that kid," he muttered.

"Well, thanks anyway," Hermione replied quietly. "So," she said loudly to the group. "Just take a stack. Thanks."

The prefects began to read the writing samples in silence. Draco stared at the table, refusing to say anything or to look up from the seemingly hypnotizing wood. Hermione looked at her fellow Head blankly, trying to think of something intelligent to say.

Draco and Hermione had received dozens of samples from their fellow prefects by the end of the meeting. As soon as Hermione read one, she would tell Draco what she thought. After he had read it, he would either nod or shake his head, indicating if it was acceptable or not. And, Hermione swore that he didn't know how to nod. He had the highest standards and expectations that she'd ever seen.

Once the prefects had finished sorting through every piece of writing, Hermione allowed them to leave. However, she was reluctant to do go because it meant she would be alone with Draco.

Hermione yawned as she read a paper. She absentmindedly rubbed the bruise that Draco had given her when he grabbed her the previous week. Draco looked up and noticed the clearly visible black and blue mark. A flash of worry appeared across his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come and he forced himself to look back down at the parchment in front of him.

"This is useless, Granger," Draco said suddenly, causing Hermione to jump. She had forgotten he was in the room. Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, none of the people in this school have any talent. With the exception of me, of course." Hermione raised his eyebrows at him.

"Well, we have to pick. We need writers."

And that's how Draco broke the ice. A few hours and arguments later, they had chosen their fifteen writers together. Who knew?

They walked back to their rooms, not within ten feet of each other, but not ten miles apart from one another either. Hermione hoped they were becoming friends because she really believed that he wasn't the Slytherin bastard that he pretended to be. All she wanted was to resolve everything with her enemies. It was obvious that goody-two-shoes Hermione Granger wanted to be on good terms with everyone. She just wanted to bring out the good she knew lie somewhere within Draco Malfoy.

However, with Draco, it was a different story completely. Draco and Hermione were still enemies. It wasn't like they were suddenly going to become friends just because they had to work on a stupid magazine together. Draco just didn't seem to… hate as much. She was a bossy know-it-all, and Draco hated her for it, but he didn't want to insult her every chance he came across. It wasn't that he didn't want to hurt her, because he still somewhat wanted to. He was just bored of the usual childish insults. This was what was going on in Draco's mind, at least.

When they arrived at their common room, they split in opposite directions, not uttering a word to each other.

They were still the same people they had always been. They were still enemies and that was that.

It seemed like non-stop work to get the first issue of the 'Hogwarts Habits' out, but with everyone pulling together to work harder than they ever had, the first edition came out with satisfaction at the end result.

The first Sunday of October, the magazine came out; copies were owled to the parents and all the students picked up a copy out of curiosity. The Hogwarts students were pleased with it, to say the least. No one could stop talking about it.

The first ball was just six days away, but every plan for it was in tact. There was a band scheduled to play (the Weird Sisters had been asked and they agreed without a second thought) and the prefects, Hermione, and Draco were supposed to decorate the Great Hall before the big event. The only thing that seemed to slip Hermione's mind was buying a mask and new dress robes.

"So, Hermione, what colour are your dress robes?" Ginny asked, sitting next to Hermione for lunch the day the magazine came out.

"Huh?" Hermione replied.

"Your dress robes? What do they look like?" Hermione slapped her forehead.

"Oh, Merlin! I meant to go shopping last Hogsmeade weekend, but there was just too much planning to do and it completely slipped my mind!"

"Well, you're in luck. It's the last day of the Hogsmeade weekend and McGonagall is rounding up students who still need to get their masks and dress robes. Come on!" Ginny exclaimed, dragging Hermione to her feet and out of the Great Hall.

"Now, Ginny," Hermione said as soon as they stepped into Hogsmeade. "I don't want to spend my whole day here. Not only do I have much more work to do, but it is absolutely ridiculous to spend an entire day shopping. And, I just need sensible robes." Ginny just giggled and dragged Hermione to the dress robe shop. She breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped into the store.

A bell chimed as the two entered _Gladrags_. An assortment of coloured robes filled both girl's vision, colours from the brightest lemon yellow to florescent pink to a chocolatey brown. Hermione looked upon these uneasily, trying to figure out what she had gotten herself into. Ginny let out an excited squeal as she ran to the nearest rack and began to look through the robes there.

It didn't take long for Hermione to grow annoyed of Ginny's shopping techniques. She would gasp, hold a robe against Hermione, shake her head, put it back on the rack, and start the whole process every two seconds.

"Ginny, you've been through this store ten times already!" Hermione complained. She sat on a nearby chair.

"I have not. You're going to look perfect for this ball. You've worked so hard and you deserve to steal the hearts of every boy at Hogwarts, so, if it takes all day, we _will_ find your perfect robe!" Hermione sighed, suddenly remembering why she hated shopping.

"I want to ask her," Ron was saying at dinner that night. "But I don't know what she thinks of me because of the Yule Ball in fourth year."

"What do you think, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"What?" Hermione looked up from her food.

"I was saying how I want to ask Lavander Brown to the ball on Saturday, but I don't know if she'll want to go with me since the Yule Ball in fourth year," Ron repeated.

"Well, if you fancy her, you should ask her. The worst thing she can say if no," Hermione told him. Ron didn't look convinced. "Look," Hermione continued. "You've obviously had a terrific summer and I see the heads that turn when you walk down the corridor, so go for it, if you really fancy her."

"Well, thanks, Hermione."

"Who're you going to ask, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know yet. I was sort of thinking of asking Susan Bones." Harry turned red. "I've been thinking of asking her for awhile now, ever since we found out about the balls, but I don't know if she's already going with someone. If she is, I could always ask Padma Patil. She's had a good summer and definitely looks better this year."

"That's for sure," Ron agreed.

"You two are disgusting! All you care about it a pretty face!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Hermione, that's not true," Harry told her, but Hermione only rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Who're you going with, Hermione?" Ginny asked suddenly, not knowing that she had interrupted their conversation. Hermione flushed and muttered something that none of them caught.

"What?" Ron asked.

"I, um, don't have a date. But, I was planning to go alone anyway. I don't need a date and I would probably just go for dinner and to see that it all goes smoothly. I'll probably be working the whole time anyway," Hermione lied through her teeth. She sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, wondering if any of them had bought her lies.

So she hadn't been asked. It was no big deal. She really didn't _need_ a date. It wasn't a requirement. She would have just as much fun without a date. Who said she needed a guy in her life? She would become an Auror, or something brilliant. To hell with guys.

**Author's Note: **So, Hermione's a little bitter. But, who wouldn't be? Poor Hermione! Things get better for her soon!

Anyways, thanks for reading! This chapter's a little boring, now that I look back on it. The ending was… sorry about that. I thought it would be more exciting. The next one will be, I promise!

So, things start taking off in this chapter. How did you all like the dream? I loved writing it! In this chapter there were a lot of fights with Draco and Hermione and… that could be a preview of the coming year, or Hermione's dream could be a preview of the coming year with Draco and Hermione. Who knows? I DO! Ahem…

Well, thank you to **AmericanIdiot252 **who was my only reviewer for chapter one! Hopefully more people are reading and are just too lazy to review!

I'm trying to keep writing, but I've been out every night with my friends… I should be able to write a lot in the next two weeks because my best friend will be gone and I won't be able to hang out with her because she'll be in Canada. I'll try to write as much as I can! I'll be gone next weekend but will bring a notebook, I promise!

Well, coming up in chapter three: The first ball, Draco being a jerk (What else is new?), fights with Draco and Hermione, a new Astronomy project, horrible partners for the new project, and mysterious people at the ball. It'll be a good chapter, and a long one!

So, thank you for reading! (Especially this super long AN!) And, please don't forget to review! Thanks!

xDreamerx


	3. The Mystery of the Ball

**Author's Note:** So, the sixth book is out! I'm proud to admit that it only took me two and a half days to read it! I couldn't put it down!

Now, as much as I would love to complain and state my opinions on the events that took place in the sixth book, I realize that it would take up far too much time and space, and I know that no one want to hear me rant and rave.

Because of the sixth book, I realize that my fic has become an **AU** fic. I am going to continue writing and posting this fic, but this is just to let everyone who is reading that my fic is now **AU**, so any reviews complaining about the events of Masked Denial not matching up with those of the lovely series by J.K. Rowling will only be laughed at.

Now that I'm done talking, I present you with the lovely chapter three and I hope that you enjoy it!

**Chapter 3- The Mystery of the Ball**

_**The song for this chapter is "Extraordinary" by Liz Phair**_

Hermione sighed from her seat in Arithmancy. Monday, five days until the ball, and she still didn't have a date.

Since she had discussed the ball with Ron, Harry, and Ginny Hermione had been asked a few times, but whether it was to make themselves look good by taking the Head Girl to the ball, or not, Hermione had no desire to attend with any one who had asked her and had turned them all down. She had a hunch that she wouldn't be asked by anyone else and that thought really brought her down.

_A girl like me really shouldn't be so picky,_ she thought. _But, why should _I_ care about something like this. I don't need a date and I don't need to go to the ball. I'll just get a head start on the magazine or homework or something. Dumbledore never said that it was required for me to attend, so I just won't go. It's no big deal._

But, Hermione couldn't help feeling that her date-less status was a big deal, to _her._ She shook her head and forced herself to pay attention to the lesson and not her annoyingly incorrect thoughts. But, before she could fully give her attention to the professor, class was over. Sighing and shaking her head at herself in disgust for not having taken any notes, Hermione picked up her books and walked towards her teacher.

"I'm sorry, professor," she said. "But, I had a little trouble following along in class and I couldn't keep up with the notes."

"Miss Granger, I would expect you, a model student, to set an example for the rest of the class, especially considering your badge." Hermione hung her head in shame.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"So am I. Though, this is your last year and you can't afford to fall behind, especially considering all the crazy things Dumbledore has left up to you this year. And with NEWTs this year…" The teacher seemed to be speaking to herself. "Well, then. Let's see if a more respectable student can lend you their notes. Mr. Malfoy? May Miss Granger borrow your notes from today's class?"

Hermione dropped her jaw in shock and starred at her teacher in disbelief.

"I'm sure I can get notes from Dean Thomas, professor," Hermione said quickly.

"Nonsense. Draco is right here with his notes handy. Mr. Malfoy?"

"Of course she can borrow my notes, professor," Draco replied smirking.

"Well, I must be off to lunch," the teacher told her students, grabbing some papers off her desk and heading towards the door. Hermione heard her teacher leave and Draco approached her. She closed her eyes, swallowed, and opened them again. Hermione couldn't believe she was left alone in a classroom with her enemy, a Slytherin, with him standing between her and the exit. She turned slowly.

"Granger, Granger, Granger," Malfoy said, his smirk growing by the second. "Didn't take notes? Never thought I'd see the day when know-it-all Mudblood Granger wouldn't pay attention in class."

Hermione only shot him her prefect (only it was Head Girl now) death glare and snatched the roll of parchment from his hand, muttering a "thanks" while grumbling to herself as she collected her books.

"You're lucky I lent you my notes, Granger. You don't seem nearly as grateful as you should me. But, I just hope you won't dirty them up."

Hermione glared again and smiled at the idea that had just popped into her head. She decided to try it out. She dropped his notes on the ground, making it quite obvious that it wasn't an accident, stepped on them, grinding them into the ground, and picked them up again, dirt apparent on both sides.

"Oops," she said, smiling. She left the classroom, Malfoy scowling after her.

* * *

"This might be a bit stressful for you all to handle," Astronomy began that night. "But, I'm assigning a project. You will be working in partners that I will assign." The class groaned. "And, for the rest of the year, starting Wednesday, you will come into the Astronomy Tower one day a month and draw out a map of the sky. You will, however, be coming in twice the one night a month you come to the tower. You will only need two charts per month so you and your partner will not be working separately. On the last day of May, you will turn in your charts of the sky along with one three foot report with one inch margins. You and your partner will also be working on the essay _together._ This does not mean that one person does all the work; this means that you both work on it _together_, hence the phrase 'partnership.'

"Now, each group has a scheduled time to be in the tower. You will be recording the moon and planets' progress, and constellations you see. This will be on your NEWT exam so I would not slack off if I were you. Now the list of who you will be working with and the times you will have the tower," she waved her wand. "are here in the Astronomy Tower, on that wall. Please check it before you leave. Thank you and you are dismissed."

Hermione waited for Ron and Harry to collect their book and the three of them made their way through the clutter of students surrounding the list.

The Head Girl followed her finger down the list until she came to her name. Her gaze drifted to her partner's name and she groaned aloud, suddenly dreading this upcoming project.

Walking to the Gryffindor Tower with Ron and Harry, Hermione couldn't stop thinking about her partner. She was sick of it and the project hadn't even started!

"I've got Pansy Parkinson," Harry told them, looking as if he'd rather fall face first off his broom than work with the Slytherin he'd been partnered with. "Who've you got?" He asked Ron.

"Crabbe," Ron replied quietly. "Who have you got, Hermione?"

"Malfoy," she muttered under her breath. The two boys held nothing but pity for their best friend.

"Rotten luck, Hermione. You had to be a Head with him, live with him, and work with him, and now you have to see him in the middle of the night. Good luck, I suppose. At least it's only once a month."

Hermione nodded in agreement, wondering if all the teachers were holding a conspiracy against her, because of the way they kept forcing her to interact with her not so secret enemy.

"Thanks. I'll manage somehow. Goodnight," she called, rounding the corner to head to her room.

"Goodnight," they replied, heading in the opposite direction.

_Brilliant,_ Hermione thought, placing her books on the desk in her room. _Just bloody brilliant._

* * *

Wednesday came without much event. Hermione still didn't have a date for the ball, but she didn't care anymore. She got used to the idea that she wasn't attending and had convinced herself that she wasn't going to get a date and she would just work on the next (the third) edition of the magazine, and maybe take a bath. Yeah, that sounded nice.

Hermione was making her way to the Astronomy Tower to start her project. She was supposed to meet… _Malfoy_ there, much to her disgust. The first time they had the tower was ten o'clock and the second was one AM. So much for getting a peaceful night of sleep.

Hermione and Draco had spoken briefly in their common room and planned to meet in the tower.

Now, Hermione entered the room and noticed quite suddenly that Draco was nowhere to be found. Checking her watch, she sighed and began to set up the equipment.

_Late. He's always late. He can't even have the decency to be on time!_ Hermione began to slam things around in fury and didn't hear someone approach her.

A voice startled her, causing her to nearly drop the telescope she had been adjusting.

"Setting up without me, Granger?" It said. The shadows revealed Malfoy, clad in his uniform and a smirk apparent on his narrow face.

"Well, if you would make it here on time I wouldn't have to set up without you." Hermione replied, not looking up.

"I had some other _business_ to take care of." Hermione rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything. Draco frowned on this; he was hoping for some sort of outburst from Hermione.

Hermione began to gaze at the stars through the telescope while Malfoy sat at the table, opening his book.

They worked in silence for the first fifteen minutes. After that, Draco began to absentmindedly crack his knuckles.

Hearing the disruption of their silence, Hermione lifted her head from the telescope and glared at Draco, who took no notice of her. Soon, he stopped and Hermione could relax in the welcoming silence that gently engulfed them.

Not five minutes later, Draco began to tap his foot out of pure boredom. Hermione tried to ignore the interruption, but didn't have to for long for not a minute after he started, he had stopped.

Unfortunately, Draco couldn't find something to ease his boredom. He started to tap his quill on the table and made a clicking noise with his tongue.

"Will you stop!" Hermione yelled, startling even herself at how boisterous her voice was. Draco stared at her blankly, tongue at the roof of his mouth, for he had been about to make another clicking noise when Hermione scolded him.

"I've been trying to work in silence because Merlin knows we don't want to work together, but you have to be so bloody annoying!" Hermione continued.

"Well, excuse me if I don't have anything to do and _have to_ be stuck in this drafty tower with _you_, of all people--"

"You're supposed to be helping me with the project, so don't even sit there and tell me--"

"Well, if you weren't such a know-it-all overachiever I could help you, but _no_, you seem to want to do it all yourself--" At this point, they were both standing face to face, red-faced from yelling.

"If I let my grade rest in _your_ hands, Merlin knows--" But, it wasn't Draco that interrupted Hermione this time. She stopped talking because someone had loudly cleared their throat. Both Hermione and Draco's heads snapped towards the door, glares apparent on both of their faces.

"WHAT!" They both yelled in unison.

Harry was standing at the door with Pansy, who was giving Hermione a death glare for being partners with 'her' Draco. Harry, however, smiled at Hermione and she smiled back, gathering her books.

"I guess your time in the tower is up," Harry told her.

"Thanks for saving me," Hermione whispered so only Harry could hear. She was glad that she had managed to finish the chart on her own.

Hermione swept from the Astronomy Tower, but didn't miss Pansy and Draco's conversation.

"Oh, Draco! How terrible! You had to be partnered up with that stupid mudblood! Are you okay? I can make things better!" Pansy said, and there was the distinct sound of Pansy kissing Draco.

"Get off, Pansy. I'm fine," Draco said, apparently having pushed Pansy off of him.

Hermione hurried to her room, hoping for a few precious hours of sleep before she had to meet Malfoy in the tower for another thirty minutes of nothing less than pure Hell.

* * *

Hermione lay on her bed and sighed out in relief. Rolling over, she heard a crumple beneath her. She sat up and examined the parchment she had been laying on. Groaning, Hermione stood and made for her door for she had forgotten to return Draco's notes.

She knocked on his door and not a second later it opened; Draco was standing in his choice of sleeping clothes—boxers.

Hermione flushed in embarrassment and tried not to stare. Malfoy only smirked and said, "Like what you see, Granger?" Hermione rolled her eyes and looked at the floor.

"Did you want something?" Draco asked rudely.

"Your notes," Hermione muttered, meeting his eyes and lifting the parchment so he could take it from her.

"Okay," he replied, grabbing his notes from Hermione. He gave her one last glance as she turned from his door, strode across the hallway to her room, and stepped into her room, closing the door lightly behind herself.

Draco stood, staring at her door for a moment, an unreadable look in his eyes. After a minute, he closed the door and slept for a few valuable hours.

* * *

After a few hours, of which did not seem nearly long enough, Hermione's alarm clock rang, filling the delicious silence. Groaning, she turned off the wretched thing and simply pulled her Hogwarts robe over her nightgown. Pulling her frazzled hair into a bun at the crook of her neck, Hermione was glad she had silenced her mirror because she looked terrible. But, she had never cared what she looked like and today was no exception.

As Hermione stepped out of her room, she couldn't help noticing Draco's shut door and the blackness of the common room. This meant that Draco couldn't possibly be awake. Sighing, she walked to his door.

_I have to do everything,_ she thought sourly. She knocked quietly, not wanting to have the consequence of waking her fellow Head.

_This is ridiculous! _She thought when no sign of movement came from Draco's room. Knocking much louder this time, she laughed out loud when she heard Draco wake, run into something, and curse out loud.

"What!" Draco barked, opening his door. He was rubbing a red spot on his forehead and his eyes weren't even open. Hermione tried to stifle her laugh with her hand, but Draco had already opened his eyes and scowled at her.

"Was there something you wanted, mudblood?" Draco asked. Hermione didn't wince at the name; instead she met his cold eyes with a glare.

"The Astronomy project? Don't tell me you've forgotten already," Hermione replied. Malfoy muttered under his breath. "I'll just meet you there then," she said, almost smirking. Draco slammed his door, but Hermione was already on her was to the tower.

* * *

Friday—the day before the ball. Everyone seemed to be rushing around the school, but Hermione was the busiest of all, trying to keep her mind off the ball. She tried to think about anything else but what was happening all around her, which, in effect, made her very out of it the entire day.

No, Hermione still didn't have date, but she had firmly decided that dates were overrated anyway and that she wouldn't be missing anything. Not really. She was just fine without a date. There was far too much work that was calling Hermione's name; far too much work that needed tending to and Hermione was perfectly fine working all night. They didn't call her an overachiever for nothing. Plus, Hermione still owed herself that bath.

At dinner that night, Hermione was in her usual seat, but Ginny wasn't there. Hermione questioned Ron about this, who only shrugged and said, quite crossly, "I don't know. I'm not my sister's _keeper_. She's probably just upstairs. Why would I know?"

Ron and Ginny had recently gotten into a row about Ron controlling Ginny's life and telling her what to do. Hermione wasn't there, but had heard the details of it afterwards and had a nice laugh about the whole thing. It was all pretty ridiculous when one really thought about it. Apparently Ron and Ginny didn't think so.

Ron's answer hadn't helped at all. Hermione sighed and filled up her plate, planning on heading to the Gryffindor Tower after dinner to check on the youngest Weasley.

Dean sat down in Ginny's seat and smiled at Hermione who returned the smile. The Head Girl flipped a page in the book she had cleverly brought to dinner and lifted a forkful of food to her lips.

"All right there, Hermione?" Dean said, laughing at how Ron and Harry seemed to be having a very lively and animated discussion about Quidditch over Hermione. She just happened to be sitting between the two, lucky for her.

"With these two to converse with," Hermione replied, gesturing to Ron and Harry. "It's always safest to bring a book along. Do you know where Ginny is? I asked this one," she pointed to Ron. "but he's about as useful as their pointless conversations." Dean laughed.

"That's actually why I came to talk to you. Ginny's in the Hospital Wing because she hasn't been feeling well the past few days and you know Madam Pomfrey. So, Ginny won't be able to go to the ball tomorrow because of that psychotic nurse. Anyway, I talked to her just a minute ago and she asked me to ask you to the ball. She told me that you didn't have a date, so I thought it'd be fun if we went."

"That's really nice of you, Dean. And I'm sorry Ginny's in the Hospital Wing. I know she was just trying to help, but I don't need a pity date."

"It's not a pity date! Granted, Ginny did ask me to ask you, but if she hadn't have I still would have asked you. I know you don't have a date and I really think we'd have a lot of fun together. It would mean a lot to Ginny and we'd have loads of fun going as friends. What do you say? You don't have to go for me, but go for Ginny and go for yourself. You know you want to go and it's no fun going by yourself. You can ditch me when we get there if you want to. But, what do you think? Will you go with me? Please?"

Hermione didn't speak for a moment as she processed the thought of going with Dean. If it was really what Ginny wanted…

"Sure," she answered. "I'll go with you."

"Great! Well, I must be off! I've got to go see Ginny." On that note, Dean left.

_Dean is really nice, and like he said, we'll just be going as friends. It'll be fun going as friends. This way, I'll get to see what a great job we did at decorating the Great Hall. I could always work on the magazine on Sunday. Yeah, it'll be great. I think it'll be loads of fun._

The students were dismissed and Hermione headed towards the room where they held prefect meetings, for she had scheduled one for that day.

Who had she been trying to kid? She couldn't fool herself… She had been dying to go to the ball all along!

* * *

The Great Hall was decorated exquisitely. Steamers of every colour stretched every direction, proudly showing off their magnificent colour.

Candles were floating in mid air, glowing with a warm flame; the wax was the colour of each house, showing every house true patriotism.

The ceiling showed off the brilliant night sky, overflowing with twinkling stars. The full moon that normally gave off an eerie glow, only shone confidently.

As Hermione stepped through the Great Hall doors, many eyes lingered on her, not knowing her true identity. It was like a Cinderella story, really.

Hermione was dressed in cream coloured robes; the comfortable material swished around her body as she moved about. Her dress robe wasn't scandalously tight fitting, nor was it low-cute. It was an incredibly simple robe, proving the Head Girl's sheer innocence.

Hermione beamed at the people who were looking her head to toe. Personally, Hermione though her appearance was a tad on the outrageous side, but Ginny had insisted upon helping Hermione get ready for the ball. Hermione had changed into her dress robe at the Hospital Wing, for goodness sake!

Ginny had showed off her artistic skills on Hermione's face with the make-up kit she demanded Hermione bring with her. Ginny had applied barely a touch of make-up, for Hermione would hardly allow any more, but Hermione couldn't believe the outcome.

The young Weasley had convinced Hermione that she was required to fix the older girl's hair and wouldn't take no for an answer. She pulled Hermione's head in a lose bun with pieces framing her face.

The mask that his Hermione's identity was made of a thick cloth covered in sparkly sequins. The covering was white and covered only her eyes and the bridge of her nose.

As soon as Hermione and Dean walked past the doors, Hermione told Dean that she was starving so they agreed to eat first. They received their dinner and say at a vacant table.

Dumbledore stood, beaming at the students who were watching him with interest.

"Welcome to out first masquerade ball!" The Headmaster began, clasping his hands together as applause erupted throughout the Great Hall. "Now, we're going to do something different for these balls. There are two tables along these walls," he pointed. "Where you can retrieve your dinner and sit at one of the many tables. Feel free to have dinner whenever you please. Our band," pointing again. "Is The Weird Sisters." Tumultuous applause erupted from the students. "All right. Without further delay, let the ball begin!"

The students clapped one last time and the band began to play a fast paced song. People made their was to the middle of the room to dance while the rest either fetched their dinner or sat down to rest or converse.

Hermione and Dean continued to consume their dinner, a conversation flowing between the two.

* * *

Draco stepped into the Great Hall while a beaming Pansy glued herself to his arm, cutting off the circulation. Draco rolled his eyes, but then smirked. He was somewhat annoyed at his date's behaviour, but he knew that any girl would die to attend the ball with him. His smirk grew.

Pansy had practically jumped all over Draco as soon as she found out about the Masquerade balls, and Draco had agreed to be her date. This earned him quite a reward with Pansy, not that he was complaining about it.

Attending the ball with Pansy was a smart idea. She _would_ make him look good, after all (not that he needed to look good), and it was all about his reputation.

The couple sat at a table with their food. Draco detached himself from his date, who sulked silently, before resting her hand on Draco's thigh while they ate. Draco smirked.

The Head Boy wore robes of smoky grey matching his cold eyes, which were covered by a silver mask. It was a simple mask made of the same thick cloth as everyone else's mask. It didn't have fancy decorations on it; the mask was only a solid shiny silver colour.

Once Draco had finished eating, he volunteered to bring Pansy and himself a drink. Walking to where the drinks were held, Draco scanned the Great Hall, not paying attention to what was right in front of him. As a result, he bumped into someone knocking her to the ground.

"I'm sorry," the girl said from the floor. "I should really be looking where I'm going."

Draco said nothing, but nodded, giving the girl a hand to help her off the ground. She took his hand and stood, not letting go of his hand for a moment. She smiled and made sure her mask was properly in place.

It was odd and very rare that Draco found himself speechless. He had those infrequent moments where he said nothing, but in those moments he always had ten replies brewing inside his mind. This time, there was nothing. His mind was a complete blank and he felt idiotic for the first time in his life. He had just noticed that she was stunningly gorgeous, even though the mask covered part of her face. He tried to give his famous Malfoy smirk, but it turned out oddly distorted and more like a sad smiled. The girl smiled back and turned to walk away.

Draco stood silently, watching the girl walk away, looking her up and down. He snapped back to reality once the girl was out of sight. He remembered that he had to get drinks for both he and Pansy.

Draco made a face. _Pansy_. Why had he agreed to come with Pansy? She was the biggest slut in the school, but always available for a good lay.

Going with Pansy made Draco's popular status rise because she was popular among Hogwarts. But, it wasn't as if Draco needed the extra boost in adoration or in his reputation. He was easily one of the most popular students in Hogwarts, if not the most popular; he was not only popular with the Slytherins (though they were easily his biggest fans).His Head Boy position was just another reason for Draco's fans to worship him; it was just another perk along the way.

The bottom line was, Draco didn't need another reason to look good, but he had wanted to look good. To Draco, there was nothing more important than his reputation and he definitely showed it.

As he reached the table Pansy was quite impatiently occupying, he smirked at the way Pansy looked eagerly around the Great Hall for a trace of Draco. She absolutely adored him.

Pansy squealed in delight when Draco approached her, setting their drinks on the table. She clung to him, her arms barely reaching his neck. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her slim body against him, if what she hoped was a seductive manner. Draco smirked and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Let's dance," she whispered as her breath tickled his ear. He smirked and pulled her aggressively onto the dance floor.

* * *

Hermione sighed from where she sat, hoping she hadn't sighed audibly. She didn't mean to sound or look bored; it was just that Dean had been talking to Harry and Ron for the half hour about nothing but Quidditch, forcing Hermione and Ron and Harry's dates to try to make small talk amongst themselves. And for the record, Hermione had been only been pretending to be into the conversations Lavender brought up. By the looks of it, Susan was pretending also. They both sent each other aggravated glances when Lavender wasn't looking.

Yes, Ron had succeeded in asking Lavender to accompany him to the ball. For the longest time Hermione thought Ron wouldn't be able to pluck up the courage to ask her, but he did and the Gryffindor was only too happy to join Ron at the ball. Hermione knew that if Ron looked the way he had back in first year that Lavender wouldn't have looked twice at him; she knew that if Ron didn't look the way he did that Lavender would have run in the opposite direction when Ron had asked her, and that caused Hermione to glare daggers at the girl when she wasn't paying attention.

Harry had finally mustered up the guts to ask Susan Bones and she had agreed. It was a good thing Harry had asked her because Susan had been asked by nearly half the seventh year boys. After talking to Susan, Hermione found her to be extremely quite, but she made up for it in her immense kindness. She would never be a Hermione, but she made nearly perfect grades and Hermione seemed to approve of her for Harry.

Dean glanced at Hermione, shooting her a smile, but Hermione could only manage to send a half smile back to her date.

Hermione couldn't stop thinking about the boy in grey robes that had accidentally knocked her to the ground. She remembered his eyes. His silver eyes… his beautiful eyes… his _masked_ eyes…

As the Head Girl watched the other couples swaying around the Great Hall, she noticed a figure in grey making his way towards her. She felt a soft blush creep upon her cheeks as she recognized him.

"May I have the pleasure of your company for this dance?" The mysterious boy asked. Hermione looked to Dean for approval, who studied the other boy before nodding with a smile. Hermione took the boy's hand, who led her to the middle of the room, all the other couples hiding them from view. She never noticed the glares Ron and Harry were sending the strange boy.

"You know, I saw you dancing with your date. You need a real dance partner," the boy said.

"And that would be you?" Hermione asked. The boy nodded at Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Naturally," he said. "Your date is clumsy on his feel. You are graceful when you dance. Therefore, you need an equally talented partner."

"Well, thanks… I think. So how did you ever manage to get away from _your_ date? She seemed to be glued to you."

"Oh, you were watching me, were you?" The boy asked, smirking. Hermione blushed a deep crimson.

"No… that's not what I meant…" Hermione trailed off, but the boy only rolled his eyes and then smirked again in his own arrogance.

He spun Hermione and that's when the Head Girl realized what he had been talking about. He was a very talented dancer and extremely graceful in his movements. Hermione felt right dancing with him, like she had finally met her match.

* * *

Harry and Ron cast dark looks towards Hermione and her mysterious dance partner. This was their third dance and though Dean didn't mind whatsoever ("We're just here as friends. She's free to do what ever she wants!"), Ron and Harry did.

Of course they were overprotective of Hermione. She was like a sister to them and they didn't want anything to happen to her; they didn't want anyone to hurt her. They both knew she could very well take care of herself, but they still wanted to and felt a need to protect her as long as they could.

"Who do you reckon _he_ is?" Harry asked, a puzzled look apparent on his face.

"I don't know, but I don't like Hermione dancing with him," Ron answered.

"Hermione is a big girl. She can take care of herself and make her own decisions. Now, let's dance," Lavender told Ron, pulling him off into the direction of the other dancing pairs. Susan copied this motion, taking off with Harry to the middle of the dance floor.

* * *

"So, you won't tell me who you are, even if I guess it?" Hermione's current dance partner clarified. Hermione nodded. "Well, then. Would you join me for a stroll outside?"

Hermione nodded, trying not to look as eager and pathetic as she felt that moment.

The two of them had been dancing for nearly an hour, talking all the while getting to know each other. Hermione showed this boy who she really was, and not just the bookworm everyone knew her as. If she showed him that side of her, he'd figure out her true identity and Hermione couldn't handle that. People like her weren't meant to find love. They were supposed to cure sicknesses and stay alone their entire lives. She could never imagine anyone loving her for who she really was, so it was all a fairy tale until midnight, when she'd have to return to reality and forget this mysteriously appealing boy.

In the same way, this boy showed Hermione who he really was. He showed her a side that no one had ever seen. He didn't know why he showed her, of all people. He didn't even know her, but he felt something strangely comfortable with her and he couldn't explain it.

_

* * *

Where's my Draco? Pansy asked herself, looking around the Great Hall in confusion._

Draco had been missing for nearly an hour and he had only said that he would be getting them a drink.

_My poor Dracky! Where could he be?_

As the Slytherin girl's mind processed her last though, she saw Draco dancing with another girl. Pansy shot daggers at this girl and stood to claim Draco when she saw him lead the girl to the doors, bringing her outside. Pansy stopped to think for a moment before allowing herself a sly grin before following the two in the shadows.

* * *

Hermione shivered in the frigid October air. She wanted to say with this mysterious boy that she had taken a liking to, so she didn't want to appear that she didn't want to be outside in the chilly air.

He walked with wide casual and classy strides foreign to Hermione's quick petite steps.

The pair walked in silence for quite some time; neither of they knew quite what to say to one another.

They walked to the outside garden that Dumbledore had set up two summers ago. Flowers sprouted everywhere, benches lined the sidewalk, fountains sputtered out water, and a pure white gazebo stood proudly, its pillars holding up the small roof. It seemed to glow in its whiteness.

The faint tinkling of the music could be heard throughout the garden, seeming to set the mood for the clear night.

The boy led the way to the gazebo. Hermione stood in the middle of it while the boy circled her, searching his mind frantically for something to say.

"How am I supposed to figure out who you are?" He asked.

"You aren't," Hermione responded.

"What?"

"Trust me. Judging by the person people know me to be, you're better off not knowing who I am."

"Why would you say that? How do you know what I want?"

"You just have to believe me when I say you won't want to know who I am."

The boy sighed and paced in silence for a few moments. Hermione opened her mouth, about to agree to reveal her true identity, when the boy spoke.

"Would you like to dance then?" He asked, holding out his hand. Hermione took it and a slow song came out. The boy took out his wand to make the music louder and pulled Hermione closer, which caused her to widen her eyes in surprise, but then close them, leaning against him when she felt an unfamiliar comfort in his arms.

"Can I ask you what house you're in?" The boy asked. Hermione shook her head. "Well, what's your favourite class?"

"Arithmancy," Hermione replied.

"Mine too," the boy whispered. He breathed in the smell of Hermione; her scent was incredibly unfamiliar to him.

Just as Hermione became comfortable, the candles that lit the gazebo dimmed, providing a soft romantic glow.

The Head Girl pulled back from her mystery boy to look him in the eye, questioning him for the reason of change in lighting. He only smiled.

Before Hermione knew what was happening, or could stop herself, she noticed her face slowly inching towards his. Their lips were inches apart; their eyes were closed. Then came a dreaded noise—the faint chiming of the clock, ringing exactly twelve times.

"Oh, no. Not now," Hermione whispered. She looked at the ground, confusing the boy standing before her. "I've got to go," she told him. She didn't want him to see her without her mask, therefore finding out who she really was. She could never dream of anyone fancying a 'model student' like herself.

"What?"

"I've got to go," Hermione repeated, holding her mask on. The mystery boy lifted a hand to hold his mask in place for the charm placed on the masks had been lifted.

"Go where?"

"Back to reality. This night has been great and I won't forget it, but it wasn't real. It was just a fairy tale. It's time to go back to normal and for you to forget all about me."

"I won't forget you," he whispered, obviously not knowing he had said this out loud.

Hermione let her eyes linger on him one moment longer before turning around.

"By the way," she whispered. "Thanks for the dance." She walked to the castle, mask in her hand.

The boy stood in the garden, watching her as she went inside. He smiled to himself, remembering the events of the night.

_Damn,_ he thought, running his fingers over his lips. _I had been so close…_

However, his smile soon became a scowl as a shrill voice called him from the shadows.

"Draco!" Pansy yelled, running to him and putting her arms around his neck. "Dracky, where have you been? I've missed you like crazy, but I know a way you can make it up to me."

Draco slid her arms of him and spoke to her as if he were talking to a two-year-old.

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed now," he said.

"Do you want me to come with you?" She responded, smiling. Draco sighed.

"No, Pansy," he answered, walking around her to the castle, head filled with nothing but the mystery girl he had spent the ball with.

**Author's Note:** Well, there it is. I love the ball and it was definitely my favorite thing to write yet, so I hope you all enjoyed it! You should have seen me writing it! I swear it took me a couple of weeks and I recruited all of my friends for help. They were ready to kill me by the time I finished it, but I really like how it turned out, considering I spent the majority of two weeks writing it.

_Monstrous_ thank you's to:

**Jaina Solo Potter****-** Thanks for reading, and don't worry, Draco and Hermione should be getting together in the next few chapters! Just hold on a few more chapters and then you'll see some action!

**yuna and lenne****-** Thanks! I try to make as little spelling errors as possible, but I absolutely suck at spelling and grammar, so sorry if there are any! I didn't mean to make Hermione out of character and if I did without realizing it, it's because she is in her seventh year and is seventeen and she's grown up quite a bit. I'm not sure what you mean about her being different, so I'm not really sure what to explain. But, she has grown up a lot and changed because of it.

**anonimousXoXo **

**charmedfiregalhermoine**

**Coming up in chapter 4**: the aftermath of the ball, Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch game, fights with Hermione and Draco, a fight between two unexpecting characters, some opening up in cold places, evil plans, and more! Stay tuned!

As always, thank you for reading and please keep reading! I've gotten slightly more reviews for this chapter, but I would always love more, so please keep reading and keep reviewing! Thanks!

xDreamerx


	4. The Beginning of an Old Relationship

**Chapter 4- The Beginning of an Old Relationship**

_**The song for this chapter is "Predictable" by Good Charlotte. **_

"Hermione… Hermione… Hermione!"

Hermione awoke and sat, starring into the face of the youngest Weasley. Hermione groaned and lay back down, pulling the covers up over her head.

"Come on, you've got to get up, Hermione," Ginny told her. Hermione sighed and sat up again, rubbing her eyes.

"Alright, alright. I'm up."

"You never told me about the ball, you know," Ginny called to Hermione, who had made her way to her closet to retrieve her clothes for the day.

The previous night, Hermione had come up from the ball to find Ginny in her room. Ginny had somehow stumbled across the password for the Heads' room and because she was feeling better, she had somehow escaped the clutches of Madam Pomfrey and had waited in Hermione's room for her to come back from the ball.

When Hermione came to her sleeping area, she invited Ginny to spend the night in her room.

"I didn't?"

"Nope," Ginny replied. "Was it as boring and pointless as you thought it would be?"

At this comment, Hermione blushed deeply in remembrance of the previous night. Luckily, her head was in the closet, looking through clothes, so Ginny took no notice of her friend's embarrassed state.

"Pretty much," Hermione said, not sounding nearly as convincing as she could have been. Once she was sure her face was no longer crimson, she took her head from the closet.

"Nothing happened?" Ginny asked, suggestively.

"Not really. This and that. You know, just the usual," Hermione responded, flashing Ginny a fake smile.

_I'm lying to Ginny. How could I lie to _Ginny_? I've never lied to her before. I've never even really lied before, so why am I now? I don't think she's ever lied to me. She's always been honest, as far as I know. I'm a dreadful person. Why would I lie? How _could_ I lie? Why can't I just tell Ginny about… _him

"OK, then. You had fun with Dean?" Ginny asked, not looking up from the magazine she was flipping through.

"Yep. He's a great guy, Gin. But, I'm going to take a shower. I'll see you in the Great Hall in a few minutes, OK?" Ginny nodded and bounced out of the room.

Hermione shut the door behind her friend and leaned against it, eyes closed.

_I can't believe I lied to Ginny. Why couldn't I just tell her?_

Towel in her hand, Hermione set off for the shower, hoping to get out the truth of the previous night sometime in the near future.

* * *

"Dracky," Pansy purred in Draco's ear at breakfast that morning. "Did you have fun with me at the ball last night?"

"Sure, Pansy," he said shortly. He turned back to the countless numbers of people surrounding him, waiting for him to finish telling the tale he had been telling his many admirers. "So, there I was, no clue what to do. I hadn't seen the snitch for the whole game—I'm talking, two hours that I hadn't seen a glimmer of the bloody snitch! So I had to…"

Pansy rolled her eyes. She couldn't understand why Draco put more into Quidditch than he did to her. She tightened her grip on his arm as if to tell the many girls surrounding the popular Head Boy that he belonged to her. Draco absentmindedly pulled his arm away from her and gestured a maneuver with his hands. Pansy sighed and smiled, whispering in Draco's ear once again.

"If you're that interested in Quidditch, I can show you some maneuvers of my own later," she said, taking a finger and drawing it down his chest, going even lower, but Draco didn't stop her. He didn't react for a moment, and when he did, he only starred at Pansy with an unreadable expression.

"I have a Quidditch game later," he told her. She only rolled her eyes and pulled away from him as if she were stung.

"What's with you? You left me at the ball for more than half of it and you were supposed to be _my_ date! Then, I try to spend the end of it with you and you say you're _tired_. Now, you're more interested in _Quidditch_ than _me_!" Draco smirked at Pansy, who, by the end of her rant was screaming, causing the entire Great Hall to stare at the scene taking place.

"That's life, babe," he said, and swept from the Great Hall, leaving Pansy scowling and his friends to laugh at another one of Draco's scenes.

* * *

A cool wind blew past Hermione as she walked by herself to the Quidditch Pitch for the Slytherin-Gryffindor game about to take place.

Try-outs had been held three weeks prior on the third week of school. Harry had made seeker and captain and he was more than a little nervous that he would ruin Gryffindor's chances of winning the cup.

Ron was ecstatic at continuing his position as keeper and was happy for Harry as captain, though it was fairly obvious he was quite a bit jealous.

Hermione pulled her cloak tighter around her body, savoring the warmth of the comfortable material.

Because Harry and Ron were overly consumed with Quidditch, Hermione had been spending more time with Ginny this year. She had planned to meet Ginny that very moment and they were to watch the game together, obviously cheering for a Gryffindor victory.

Hermione settled herself in a seat, looking in every which way for a flash of her red headed friend.

A flash of colour did catch her eye, forcing her to look in the direction of the colour without thinking. However, this colour was not red, it was platinium.

The Head Girl met her fellow Head's eyes and a flash of her mystery boy's orbs came into her mind. She wrinkled her forehead in confusion as Draco's eyes bored inot hers, both of them willing themselves not to look away. After a moment, Malfoy sneered at Hermione, who was only too happy to return the look. She looked away, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, Hermione," Ginny said, sitting next to Hermione.

"Hello, Ginny. Look, there's something I want to tell you about the ball."

_This is it,_ Hermione thought. _I should just be honest and come out with it all. I'll feel a lot better once I tell someone about_ him_. And, who knows? Ginny could have some really good advice for me about this. _I_ certainly don't know what to do about this situation._

"What is it, Hermione?" Ginny questioned, her eyebrows furrowing.

"I, um, well…" Hermione sighed in defeat. "The Great Hall decorations looked brilliant."

* * *

Hermione's mystery boy from the ball never left her mind. She had to constantly push him away from her thoughts to focus more on her studies.

She was ashamed of herself for thinking of him so much when she would never see him again. But, she just couldn't, _wouldn't _forget him.

As she made her way to the common room from Astronomy, her last class of the day, she had to force herself to focus on the magazine, something she had been neglecting lately. Classes had her so busy that she couldn't find time to work on it, though, strangely enough, Draco didn't seem to mind doing most of the work. That was suspicious; very suspicious.

Hermione entered the common room and was surprised and oddly disappointed to find that Draco was nowhere to be found.

_I need to talk to him about the magazine and what still needs to be done for it. I really should be helping to work on it. We are, after all, Heads together and there's no reason that I should be slacking off. _She told herself. She shrugged and went to her room to drop off her books.

When Hermione returned to the common room, she was startled to find Draco sitting on a couch, parchment completely surrounding him. He looked as if he was a boat and the parchment was the watersurrounding him.

However, he was holding a much darker coloured piece of paper. He seemed to be completely involved in it that he hadn't noticed Hermione enter the room.

Hermione stood and watched him for a moment, interested in what he was doing. He seemed to let his guard down, causing his face to look very open and readable. He looked confused, worried, but most of all, he looked _scared_ and that was what scared frightened Hermione the most. She had never seem him like this. He normally masked his eyes, making himself as unpredictable the weather, but, now he didn't wear that cold mask.

As confused as it made Hermione, she could honestly say she liked his much better when every look he wore wasn't filled with malice.

"What do you have there?" Hermione asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Draco didn't jump, but looked up, startled. Panic filled his eyes for less than a moment before he glared his trademark glare, sending all his hatred towards her.

"None of your business, Mudblood," he replied. "And I would appreciate if you didn't sneak up on me like that."

"This is my common room too, and since when have I done, or wanted to do anything you would appreciate?" Hermione replied coldly. She realized what she had said and how mean it had sounded and cleared away some pieces of parchment to sit on the couch opposite Draco. She knew she had to be the bigger person here because Draco certainly wouldn't. "Sorry," she muttered and wished she could take that one word back as soon as Draco's face lit up in an evil smirk.

"Mudblood Granger is apologizing to me? How sweet," he said. Hermione glowered.

"Don't get used to it. So, what's left to do for the magazine?"

"Nothing, really. We just have to put each copy in order and we're done."

"Oh, no. There's too many! The next edition goes out in," Hermione checked her watch—11:00 PM. "Seven hours! Couldn't we just put one copy together and copy it?"

"Yeah, well I didn't think about that until after I did all this. We better get to work, then." Hermione nodded in agreement and picked up the nearest stack of parchment.

Draco watched her with interest for a moment. She was so concentrated, her eyebrows fused together. A lock of her normally frizzy hair went astray so she tucked it behind her ear firmly. Draco watched for another minute; her eyes were moving swiftly across the page. When she found the next part of the magazine, her eyes lit up and she sat up a little straighter in her own confidence. But, when she couldn't find the next article, she bit her lip and slumped down in her seat, rubbing her head in what Draco was sure was a headache in the making.

Tearing his eyes away from the Gryffindor, Draco looked down at his work, his father's letter still fresh in his mind. He had come so close to telling Hermione about it this time…

* * *

"Hermione! Hey, Hermione!" Hermione turned and smiled when she saw Harry and Ron making their way towards her.

"Hey, guys," she responded, continuing on her was to her common room. She noticed Harry and Ron clad in their Quidditch uniforms and wondered what she had forgotten this time.

Obviously, their robes meant that she had forgotten a Quidditch match between Gryffindor and some other house, but she had been so busy lately that she didn't think much of remembering the game.

"Are you coming to the Quidditch match?" Ron asked. "It's in twenty minutes."

Hermione _wanted_ to go to the match, but her hands were completely full, literally. She had to complete for essays that had been assigned the previous day. She had stated the essays and was just having trouble finishing them. Plus, Hermione had more work for the next edition of the magazine to do. As if she could go the game! Even though she wanted to, Hermione just had too much work to do.

"No," Hermione replied, taking a swift turn in the direction of the Heads' room. Harry and Ron stopping, looked at each other in confusion, and ran to catch up with Hermione, who was walking in a hurried speed.

"Why not?" Ron wanted to know.

"Yeah, you have to cheer us on, Hermione!" Harry said.

"I just have too much to do," she told them vaguely.

"You can do your work some other time."

"No I can't, Ron. I have four essays to finish that are due Monday—I'm going to assume you two haven't started yours—and I have _loads_ of work to do for the magazine. I just can't go."

"You're _always_ working--" Ron started to yell.

"Ron," Harry warned him cautiously, but Ron paid no mind to Harry and went on as if Harry hadn't uttered a word.

"You never have any time for your friends! You're just Miss goody-two-shoes and can't spare an _hour_ to watch your _friends_ play and move closer to the Quidditch cup--"

"At least I do my work! You're _always _slacking off! I'm surprised you've--"

"Hermione," Harry warned her and she too ignored him.

"—managed to scrape by in your classes until now!"

"Oh, and you think just because you're _Head Girl_ you're better than everyone else--"

"—I do _not_ think I'm better than anyone!"

"And you can just tell everyone what to do and blow off your friends, but you know what? I wish you never made _Head Girl_! We'd all be better off if you hadn't!"

Hermione didn't say anything; Ron and Hermione stood there in silence for a moment, glaring at one another while Harry stood between them, looking back and forth, no clue what to say.

Finally, they both turned and walked in opposite directions, leaving Harry in the corridor to stare after them and then turn to follow Ron to the Quidditch Pitch.

* * *

Hermione sighed as she entered the Heads' common room. This was just what she needed to add to her never ending list of what she had to deal with—a fight with Ron.

The Head Girl refused to apologize, though she was sorry for what she had said, even if it was partly true. But, she wouldn't be the first to apologize this time. Hermione was tired of letting people walk all over her and she wouldn't let them; not this year.

Hermione carelessly threw her books on a table—she would scold herself for it _later_—and lay on a couch, face down.

She thought about the year so far. It was _only_ October. As much as she didn't want to leave Hogwarts, Hermione wished it was summer again.

"Granger?" Hermione groaned aloud. "What are you doing?"

"Wishing it was summer," came her muffled reply. She lifted her head to see Draco standing before her. Hermione sat as if to let Draco sit on the couch beside her, but he sat on the one across from her instead. He seemed to favour this couch above all of the others.

"You're speaking to me civilly," the Head Girl noted. "Did someone spike your pumpkin juice?"

Draco sneered at her but didn't respond with rudeness, oddly enough.

"I figured it would be easier since we have to work with one another all year," He said. Hermione bit back an 'I told you so' that begged to be released. "So, why do you wish it was summer? I thought you were the one who would sleep in the library if Madam Pince let you."

Hermione covered her face with her hands and wondered if that was what everyone really thought of her.

"I like school. It's just… This year is so crazy. Being a Head, much more homework this year, studying for NEWTs, the magazine, and the masquerade balls… not to mention social matters and finding the time for my friends… Maybe you can't understand, but it's really stressful. I barely get enough sleep. I mean, I barely scrape past two hours a night. I'm lucky if I can get that!… I don't know if you can relate…"

"You'd be surprised," Draco whispered. Hermione barely caught it, but didn't respond because she figured Draco didn't want her to have heard it.

_Wow. Bookworm Granger feels like _this_? It's so strange. Who would have thought that under all that know-it-all-ness she feels the exact way I do. At least she doesn't have to put up with father. That letter he sent me today—_

"So, I bet you wish it was summer, Malfoy," Hermione snapped him out of his thoughts. "I bet you wish you were out of school already."

"Sometimes… but other times… I like being here. It's… _safe_," Draco whispered in a way that sent chills up Hermione's spine. She leaned forward, resting her chin of her hand. She was very intrigued at what Draco meant.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "Safe from _what_ exactly?"

Draco gave Hermione a hard look and looked as if he wasn't going to speak, for he didn't say anything for nearly five minutes. Hermione lay back down on the couch by the time Draco spoke again.

"Safe from… father… safe from… _the Dark Lord_," he whispered in disgust. He stood up, almost angry at himself for revealing this much to his worst enemy. He began to walk back to his room.

"So, you're not a Death Eater, Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

Draco stopped dead in his tracks, but didn't look back. When he answered, it was barely audible, but Hermione just caught it.

"No, Granger, I'm not."

* * *

A figure moved in the darkness of night. Wand out, it muttered _Lumos_, but cautiously, for this person couldn't wake anyone in the castle. If anyone in Hogwarts went to see what all the commotion was about, everything would be ruined.

But, of course, _He _could fix it. _He_ fixed it every time this figure messed up. But he wouldn't mess up this time. He couldn't afford to mess up again. This was his golden opportunity—at Hogwarts with Harry Potter—and if he didn't reach out and grab it, he would be as good as dead.

The figure unlocked the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, for someone who trusted him gave him the key. How very like Albus Dumbledore.

Conjuring a fire in the fireplace, the person threw in a handful of Floo Powder and stuck his head in, whispering the destination he wished his head to appear at.

"Finally," a cold voice said as soon as the person's head came through the fireplace. "I was beginning to wonder what became of you."

"I-I'm sorry, my lord. I was held up. I had to wait until they all went to sleep. I'm sorry--"

"Stop apologizing, fool, and listen to me. I've waited long enough to fulfill the prophecy. Now that you're at Hogwarts, we can get the plan into effect. You remember the plan, don't you?"

"Yes, of course, my lord."

"Alright then. It's up to you. Do not mess this up. You must get close to Potter, befriend him, if you will, and look out for his mudblood friend. I fear she suspects something already. Once the Potter boy begins to trust you, go for the kill. I know about the masquerade balls that Dumbledore is using to keep the students safe. By the last ball, you will make it safe for me to apparate to the Hogwarts grounds. You will need to lure Potter and his two friends—the Weasley boy and the mudblood girl—to where I am so I can kill the lot of them. It's better to kill them all at once so I won't have to bother myself with killing them later."

"Yes, of course, Master."

"Remember the plan and start on it as quickly as possible."

"Yes, Master, but I hear someone coming. I must go."

He took his head from the fireplace and sat in a nearby chair, sweating. His breath came in short, ragged gasps as he desperately tried to calm himself down.

Suddenly, the door flew open, but no one was there. The figure's breath grew faster.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" He demanded. A hand came out of nowhere and Harry Potter appeared from the air, holding a silver-coloured cloak in his grasp. He stuffed an old piece of parchment into his pocket.

"Professor Braccola! I heard something and I… I didn't know what to think!" Harry said quickly.

"It's alright, boy. I, too, heard someone in my office and came to see what was going on," the teacher explained.

_That's not what the Marauders' map said,_ Harry though, wrinkling his forehead in confusion.

The truth was, Harry had seen Braccola in his office near the fireplace for quite some time. Since Harry couldn't sleep, he went to see what it was all about.

"I rushed down here, which explains my current state, but there was no one here. Thank you for coming down, but I think we both must get back to sleep," Braccola continued, ushering Harry out of his room. With one final glance at the fireplace, the professor flicked off the lights and closed the door, locking it behind him.

* * *

At the beginning of November, Draco received his monthly letter from his father. His silver-black owl brought the letter and gave Draco a warning look as if telling his not to discard it in the fire like he had done to the last letter after reading it. Draco snatched the letter from his owl's leg and proceeded to shoo it out of his room. Closing the window behind the temperamental creature, Draco went into the common room, for he found it to be a much more enjoyable environment than his room, which reminded him all too much of the drafty Slytherin dungeons.

Turning the letter over in his hands, the Head Boy seemed to be looking for a sign that the letter contained some kind of curse in its contents. Finding none, he flipped it to the back and saw the Malfoy crest—an 'M' with a snake coiling through it. Draco frowned upon seeing the crest and slipped open the letter that was undoubtedly from his father.

_Draco—_

It began. Not even a '_dear_ Draco' or a '_to my son,_ Draco.' It just said 'Draco.' How very like Lucius.

_Draco—_

_I assume that you recognized this letter as the monthly one from me before you opened it. And, you would be correct in thinking so. They are my monthly check up on you, if you will. Who _knows_ what could be happening in that school of yours?_

_Your mother continues to remain well. She had taken to having an afternoon tea get together with a few of her little friends, which I have approved. There is simply no harm in having one of two guests over for tea._

_Your mother has also grown fond of gardens and has decided to plant around the Manor. Of course, she'll only be buying them and approving their placement, but it seems to bring her joy._

After that paragraph, Draco immediately knew something was wrong. When would his father ever want to bring happiness to anyone? She _was_ his wife, but his father wasn't someone who would enjoy bringing joy into others' lives.

_For my last order of business, I'd like to remind you that you will be coming home for winter vacation. We will have a _meeting_ and you will be transformed by New Years Day. _

_I shall expect you for Christmas and your mother would like to add that she looks forward to your return._

_Father_

Draco read the ending three times before he realized what his father had said. He wrote 'meeting' and that meant a _Death Eater_ meeting, where he would be branded with the Dark Mark. Being 'transformed' meant that Draco would be trained to be a Death Eater.

Draco wasn't scared… OK, so maybe he was. But, he would never admit it, even when threatened with death.

Draco strongly did not want to take part of this; to live his life the way his father wanted to; live his father's life. He wasn't sure about most things, but he was one hundred percent positive that he did not want to be one of Voldemort's followers, one of Voldemort's minions.

As the Head Boy thought about this darkly, he heard the portrait open and Hermione came in, laughing loudly. He glared at her for disrupting his thoughts and she gave him an apologetic glance.

Hermione walked to her room, set her books down on her bed, and re-entered the common room, where the information of the magazine was. She was to work on it, for she had been incredibly busy recently, leaving no time for it.

She glanced at Draco and did a double-take. He was so deep in thought that, for one of the first times, Hermione saw his without his mask. He looked lost and Hermione watched him for a moment. She was surprised to find he was rather nice to look at without his eyes so coldly masked.

Hermione snapped herself back to reality, but couldn't help feeling sorry for Draco, even though she didn't know what he was going through. Just the expression on his face was enough to make anyone feel bad for him.

Because of this sudden burst in sympathy for her worst enemy, the Head Girl approached him.

"Malfoy? What's the matter?" She asked him with such kindness that Draco didn't think once about insulting her.

"Umm, it's nothing, really," he replied, not meeting his fellow Head's golden coloured eyes.

"It's okay. You can tell me. I promise I won't say a thing to anyone. I won't tell anyone that you talked to a _mudblood_." Draco cringed at how the word sounded aloud. "Everyone needs someone to confide in, even cold, heartless Slytherins like you," she said, smiling faintly.

"Have your parents ever tried to make you do something that you didn't want to do? That was against your… _morals_?" He whispered.

"Well, both my parents are dentists, so they don't really ask much of me. Except when they wanted me to get braces. I fixed my teeth magically instead and when they found out…" Hermione realized that he probably didn't care, so she trailed off. But, Draco had been listening to her, very interested in what he would define a 'normal' family. He had a faint smile on his lips because of Hermione's story, but also because of her sad attempt at relating to Draco's situation. He found it fairly amusing. "You don't care, do you?"

Draco didn't respond.

"Well, to answer your question: no, not really. They've asked my to do little things: clean your room, feed Crookshanks, but nothing terrible. It's usually something I've done, or know I need to do. What are your parents making you do?"

Hermione asked him so casually, as if thought his parents were making him clean his room or buy a new set of robes. It took Draco off guard and he stared at her a moment before answering.

"It's… nothing," he replied.

"You can tell me, Malfoy, remember?"

"Why do you always call me 'Malfoy'?" Draco inquired. "I have a first name, you know."

"Yeah, but we've always been sworn enemies, don't you remember? You enlarged my teeth, cursed off my hair, and made me grow a moustache." Draco laughed lightly.

"But that was only because you and your Gryffin_dork_ friends turned my beautiful hair white, cursed off my eyebrows, and are incredibly annoying at every bloody thing you do." Hermione stifle a laugh.

"Yeah, well, if you didn't walk around like you own Hogwarts and weren't such an egotistical prick, then maybe we wouldn't have done half those things. Maybe. You never know with Gryffindors," Hermione said, still laughing.

"I'm not a prick! And Hogwarts practically belongs to my father…" Draco stopped speaking because he was suddenly reminded of his letter. A look of pain and betrayal flashed in his eyes before he expertly masked them once again.

"Was there something you wanted?" Draco snapped suddenly. The quick change in mood made Hermione jump and stare at him with a hard expression.

"What's your problem? You were being perfectly civil, even more so, until you mentioned your…" Hermione easily put two and two together. "Your father! Your father is trying to make you do something that you don't want to, but… but you can't refuse… I don't know why. Why won't you just tell him you won't do it? He can't _force _you do to something you don't want to do."

"It's more complicated than you think. You wouldn't understand," he whispered darkly.

"Then explain it to me," Hermione replied gently.

"I can't!"

"Why not!"

"Because… you… you just _can't_ understand…"

"Malfoy. Maybe I haven't been though anything similar to what you have, but I do know that everyone needs someone to help them out and you obviously do, so just tell me."

"Why should I!" We're sworn enemies, remember? I'm supposed to hate you and you're supposed to hate me."

"Oh, come on, Malfoy. Don't you think it's about time to give up out childish rivalry? We're practically adults now. That means we should be able to have a mature and civil relationship. I'm not saying we should be friends or anything of that sort, but you and I should be able to communicate civilly. Now, tell me, what is it that's been bothering you? What is going on with your father?" Hermione questioned, sternly. She surprised herself on how forceful her voice. She softened her gaze and tried to make herself look easier to open up to.

Draco didn't speak for a few moments and seemed to be considering what his fellow Head said. Finally, sighing in defeat, he picked up the letter from his father and handed it to Hermione.

There was a brief moment of silence as Hermione read and Draco watched her, trying to see her reaction.

When she finished, Hermione met Draco's eyes and she seemed to have tears in her eyes, but she blinked and they were gone.

"Wow. I-I didn't think… I'm-I'm _sorry_…" She whispered, looking at the ground now.

"For what?"

"I'm sorry that you have to go through this. No one deserves it," she smiled. "Even heartless Slytherins like you." Draco half smiled and it was the first trace of a smile Hermione had ever seen on his face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked, not really sure what she could do to help.

"Not really," Draco responded distantly.

"Well, if you do, you know where to find me."

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I've gotten over the past. That's just the past; this is the present. I don't let the past reflect what I do today. I think everyone deserves as many chances as they need. I don't hold grudges," Hermione replied and thought she saw a glimmer of guilt in Draco's eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came.

There was a moment of silence and a few minutes later Hermione's eyes lit up suddenly.

"You should go to Professor Dumbledore! He'll know just what to do and will find a way to keep you here over winter vacation!"

"No fucking way!" Draco exclaimed, startling Hermione. "There's no way I'm telling that old bat about this."

"So, you'd rather become a Death Eater than get help from the only person that can help you? That's really stupid, even for you. Here you are, talking about your morals and how this isn't what you want and you'd break it all just so you don't have to ask for help. Maybe you're more like your father than you thought." But Hermione knew she'd said the wrong thing as soon as the words left her lips. "I'm-I'm sorry--" Draco silenced her by grabbing her roughly by the wrist. Hermione immediately knew there'd be bruising there later.

"I'm _not_ my father," he whispered in a deathly tone. He let her go as if he'd been burned and left the room swiftly, without looking back.

**Author's Note:** Ah, fights had to happen. This one happens to be one of my favorite because he tells her what's going on and all that. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I did!

_Colossal_ thank you's to: (I have a longer list this time!)

**anonimousXoXo**,

**Spazzletaz**,

**AmericanIdiot252**,

**mysteriouscharm**,

**thedreamz**

And **Janangel**

**Coming up in Chapter 5:** Quidditch, a new crush, becoming friends again, progressing feelings, more opening up, a victory party, drinking, and action between two unsuspecting characters! Stay tuned! I guarantee that if there was one chapter to read, chapter 5 would be it!

Again, thank you to everyone who read this chapter, and a special thank you goes to those who reviewed! I had more reviews than for the last chapter, but I would always love more, so don't forget to review! Thanks!

xDreamerx


	5. Intoxicated Mistakes

**Chapter 5- Intoxicated Mistakes**

_**The song for this chapter is "Why Don't You Kiss Her" by Jesse McCartney.**_

By the time the next Quidditch game came rolling by, Hermione still wasn't on speaking terms with Ron. Harry refused to chose sides and spoke to Hermione, at least when Ron wasn't around.

The game was Slytherin versus Hufflepuff and Slytherin were undoubtedly going to crush Hufflepuff.

While Gryffindor and Slytherin were the only houses who would have victory parties, the Slytherin celebrations tended to be quite a bit more extravagant than the Gryffindors'. The Slytherins already set up most of the plans for their party, which was strictly Slytherins only. Most of the other houses didn't even know about the party, let alone desire to attend. That was simply out of the question and they all knew it. No other houses would even want to hold a conversation with a Slytherin, but going to one of their parties was just crazy, they knew.

Hermione walked to the Quidditch Pitch accompanied by Ginny, who was talking non-stop about her Astronomy class.

It felt nice for the Head Girl to finally take a break from her all too stressful life and attend the match. Because there wasn't another ball to plan for another month and she had gotten a head start on the magazine for the week, she had time, for once, to spend time with Ginny, who would rather die than miss a Quidditch match.

The November air was slightly cooler as the arrival of winter approached. Hermione hoped the game wouldn't last long.

She was cheering for Hufflepuff, obviously, but she didn't wantto stay outside much longer. It was too cold for a Quidditch game.

Hermione remembered how Ginny had been on the Quidditch team in fifth year because Harry had been kicked off of the team by Umbridge. The previous year, Harry had offered Ginny to keep the position as seeker, but she refused it and demanded that Harry take it instead. Now, this year, Harry was captain of the team and he had asked Ginny to try out for a different position, but she didn't want to be on the team anymore, oddly enough. Being on the team had made her realize that she liked watching more than playing Quidditch.

As Hermione and Ginny approached the Quidditch Pitch, Ginny waved to a friend of hers. Hermione felt a pang in her stomach. She missed spending time with Harry and Ron, but she absolutely refused to be the first to apologize. No matter how much she missed them, she wouldn't give in; not this time.

Hermione pulled her cloak tighter around herself, trying to ease her loneliness. Ginny smiled up at her and she smiled back widely. She was lucky to be such good friends with Ginny, even is her brother was a prick.

The two of them sat in the hard and cold bleachers, impatiently awaiting the start of the match.

"This is exciting, isn't it?" Ginny asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Hermione looked across the audience. She saw two friends hugging like they hadn't seen each other in months, two boys performing a complicated handshake for the whole school to see… It wasn't that Hermione didn't have any friends because she did. She was here with Ginny, wasn't she? And just yesterday she had had a conversation with Parvati Patil for nearly five minutes about… make-up…

Who was she trying to kid? She missed Ron and Harry! As much as she told herself that she would not give in, she couldn't help it. She knew she'd be the one to apologize first just like she always had. She let people walk all over her. Good old Hermione Doormat Granger.

The Head Girl hated that that was the way she was. She always fell for the simplest schemes and because of the kind-hearted person that she was, she would fall for anything. Hermione always gave people second chances, even if they didn't deserve it and she absolutely detested that. It was just the way her life was. Everyone took advantage of her and Hermione was pretty much used to it by now.

"Hello? Hermione?" Ginny waved a hand in front of Hermione's face. Hermione blinked and stared at her red-haired friend.

"What? Oh, um, yeah," Hermione replied distractedly.

The game started. A Hufflepuff sixth year that Hermione didn't know was commentating. Ginny said that he was in her Charms class, was loud, and a bit of a show off. She also said his name was Johnny Olsen and a big class clown. It was evident that Ginny wasn't impressed by him.

Hermione just smiled at the way Ginny went on and on about Johnny. She kept talking about how she didn't like him, but it seemed to the Head Girl that Ginny had, what she would call, a school-girl crush on this boy named Johnny. It was quite amusing to watch.

The Hufflepuff keeper caught the Quaffle. The Slytherin keeper hit the Hufflepuff seeker with his broom, nearly knocking the Hufflepuff off his. Madam Hooch didn't see; It was a fairly typical game. Hermione guessed it would be over in a half hour and she would be able to finish the next issue of the magazine.

The Head Girl breathed in the frosty air. She couldn't remember the last time she had been outside; the Hogwarts grounds were so beautiful. She made a vow that this year she would get out more and not work as much as she had in the past. This was her last year and she promised to take advantage of it!

Within fifteen minutes, the Slytherin seeker caught the snitch and the game ended.

Hermione and Ginny began to walk to the castle, disappointed, but not surprised at the outcome of the match.

"What're you doing today, Hermione?" Ginny asked quietly.

"Probably just working."

"But it's a Saturday! You should be having fun!"

"I have a lot of work to catch up on," Hermione replied.

"Are you hungry?" Hermione nodded and without another word, they both turned in the direction of the Great Hall for lunch.

* * *

"Ron," Harry said at lunch after the Quidditch match. "I think it's about time you make up with Hermione."

"What! You heard what she said to me! Why would _I _make up with her? In anything, she should be trying to make up with _me_!" Ron exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You two have been in this stupid fight long enough. Hermione has her own life and a lot of extra work to do, especially because she's Head Girl. We're wrong to make her choose between the position she loves and her friends. She takes on too much, but that's the way she is. You know it."

Ron sighed and glared at the table. He hated being wrong and he didn't want to be the first to apologize, even if he never had before.

"Maybe Hermione was wrong to say what she did to you," Harry continued. "But, you can't say she was entirely wrong. I suppose we do slack off a bit."

"But she didn't have to say it!" Ron retorted.

"Yeah, but that doesn't make what you said right. Look, mate, I'm just tired of being forced to choose sides. Hermione's my friend too. I just want us all to be friends again."

Ron sighed angrily once again and looked over to where Hermione was sitting; she was all alone. Ron felt guilty all of the sudden.

It wasn't as if Ron wanted to stay angry with Hermione. He wanted things to be back to normal, but he stubbornly refused to apologize first, even if they both were wrong. Ron rolled his eyes and motioned for Harry to follow him.

When the two Gryffindor boys reached Hermione, Ginny was occupying the seat next to her. As Harry and Ron approached, Hermione looked up startled, but replaced the look quickly with a glare and turned back to her food.

"Yes?" She asked, not looking up.

"Ron has something he'd like to say to you," Harry said, pushing Ron a bit forward. They both sat down across from the two Gryffindor girls and Ron opened his mouth.

"I-um-well-I… Hello, Hermione," Ron stuttered.

"Ron," she replied. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Well, I, um… I-well, uh. Um, I-um…"

"I think what Ron is trying to say is that he apologizes for what he said to you and that he didn't mean it," Harry explained. Ron stared at Harry.

"Is that true, Ronald?" Hermione asked.

"I-well-um-I-yeah."

"Ron would also like to point out that you should be sorry for what you said too and that this fight was only half his fault," Harry continued.

"I know," Hermione said. "And, I'm sorry too. I didn't mean what I said. Everything has just been so stressful with NEWTs this year and my Head Girl position, the magazine, and the balls… it's a lot to handle. I know I've probably been neglecting you two lately." Ron snorted. "And, I'm sorry, but I don't know how to change it. I suppose I could cut down on re-reading the textbooks and watch you guys practice for Quidditch. But, things are going to be stressful this year and there really isn't anything I can do to change it."

"Well, we know _that_, but, I mean, seriously. Re-reading the textbooks? It's things like that that you do but don't have to. I understand about your Head Girl position, but we miss you," Ron replied. Hermione smiled.

"I know," she said.

All four of them smiled, not caring if they looked like idiots. And, it was like an unspoken agreement. Their friendship was renewed without saying a word.

After only a few moments, Ron and Harry began a lively conversation about Quidditch, Ginny pulled out a magazine (_Hogwarts' Happenings_ in fact), and Hermione went back to her breakfast.

Hermione couldn't be happier with the second chance in friendship with Ron. She hadn't had to apologize first. For once, Ron, always taking never giving, apologized first. It was a gift that no one else could give.

Hermione smiled as she lifted her fork to her lips.

Everything seemed to be working out for the best this year and Hermione was glad. It was all she had wanted.

* * *

Later that day, Hermione felt like a hot shower. She had the time and it would really relax her, which was she needed! So, she grabbed a towel and headed to the showers.

When the Head Girl finished her steamy shower, she covered herself in a fluffy robe, headed back to her room, and took time picking out her outfit for the day.

There wasn't a particular reason to the added thoughts of what she would wear. Hermione had just wanted to look nicer than usual and she _did_ have the time. That was what it really came down to.

After picking out a short skirt her mother bought her, ("It's about time you get the boys in that school of yours noticing your natural beauty!") and a matching top, she glanced outside the window and placed the outfit back into her closet.

It was raining or _sleeting_ for that matter. Long, massive drops of sleet poured down from the sky like frozen tears.

Deciding that a skirt might not be the best choice, (Not that she would be outside, anyway) Hermione picked out simple jeans and a top to match. It was plain, but then again, all of her clothes were.

After moment of thinking about her day, Hermione opened her dresser once again and pulled out a sweater as a second thought.

The Head Girl brushed hair and attempted to read a book, but her mind had other plans and wandered to a conversation she had with her mother over summer vacation.

_"So, Hermione. Is there a boy we should be meeting soon? Someone you've taken a fancy to?" Mrs. Granger asked her daughter._

_"No, Mum. There's no one. I'm far too busy with other things to worry about boyfriends."_

_"But, Hermione, dear, you've never had a boyfriend. I think it's only suitable that you start to look into it."_

_"I have no time for guys. I have too much work to do already."_

_Mrs. Granger sat beside her daughter and ruffled the younger girl's hair._

_"Hermione, always the perfectionist. I don't mean to nag or force you into anything. I'd just love to see you happy—the kind of happy that books can't bring you. I only want what's best for you, Hermione."_

_"I know, mum," Hermione replied sighing. "I know."_

It wasn't like Hermione didn't want a boyfriend. She's like one very much. But, it didn't work that way. Just because one wanted that special someone didn't mean they got it just like that. Someone had to be interested in Hermione first, and she was sure that no one would. Ever.

Hermione wasn't certain there was a "the one" for everyone. There just couldn't be. No one was perfect and even if there was a "the one" for everyone, that person wouldn't be perfect for anyone.

Logically, there was no way there could be a "the one" for everyone, but in the back of her mind, Hermione wished there was a way to defy all logic to find the person she'd been waiting for…

* * *

Draco came into the common room from his bed room and hour after Hermione had taken her shower. The Head Girl was in the common room, reading silently by the fire.

Draco stood and watched the Gryffindor for a moment. She had used a straightening spell on her hair and the way if curled, framing her face almost made her look pretty.

Draco snorted.

_Mudblood Granger pretty?_ He thought he was going crazy. Shaking his head, Malfoy went to the desk they kept the magazine information on. The papers were annoyingly neat and organized—Granger had been cleaning.

"What else do we need to do for the magazine issue that goes out tomorrow?" Draco asked.

"Nothing," Hermione replied, not looking her from her book. "Everything's done."

Draco was put out. He wanted to work on the magazine to distract himself from his father's most recent letter. He sighed and went back to his room.

A minute later, the Head Boy emerged from his room with a massive book in his grasp. He sat on a couch and opened it. A piece of parchment fell out and Draco picked it up.

Immediately, Malfoy recognized his father's scratchy, yet eloquent, handwriting. He dropped the letter and picked it up again, sitting on a couch.

It was the most recent letter. His psychotic owl had brought it the previous day. Draco re-read it, not noticing himself shake as he read further down.

Lucius had threatened Draco's life. He had always threatened Draco, but not his life. Draco was terrified because he knew what his father, the Death Eaters, and Voldemort were capable of; he was petrified and he hated that it became harder and harder to hide it.

"Malfoy? Are you okay?" Hermione asked, snapping Draco from the letter.

Draco had forgotten she was there. He looked at her, surprised and didn't hide it.

"Wh-what?"

"I asked you if you were okay. You looked a little… What do you have there?"

Draco sighed and stared at the floor, his father's words still swirling around his head.

"Um, another letter from my father," he replied. A spark on interest appeared in Hermione's eyes so Draco held the letter out towards her. Hermione stood from where she had been sitting on the floor and sat next to Draco on the couch. She didn't seem to think anything of this action, but Draco sure did.

The Head Girl took the letter from Draco's hand and when she did, their fingers brushed. There was a short buzz-like feeling when their hands touched and Hermione almost dropped the letter, that's how much it had startled her. She didn't know what that feeling was or what it meant. She figured it was just because she had been by the fire recently.

Hermione looked at Draco, almost waiting for his to say something rude about them touching, call her a mudblood or something, but he didn't. He only looked at her with a blank stare, but Hermione knew that he had felt the same thing she did when their fingers touched. It was in his eyes.

As Hermione read the parchment, Draco watched Hermione, reading her, studying her face.

He noticed that up close, it was difficult to miss her beauty. She was outrageously gorgeous, but she was very pretty and hid it behind her books.

Draco noticed her flawless pale complexion. It suited her. Her mouth was the lightest tinge of pink; her un-kissed lips seemed to scream her innocence. Her long hair had gold in it when hit with light, but Draco already knew that. But straight… it looked nice. Draco liked it better. It wasn't bushy or anything… it was just shiny and absolutely beautiful.

And Hermione's eyes. They were what intrigued Draco the most. He had always thought them to be the plainest brown, but now, looking at them as they moved rapidly back and forth, Draco saw that they weren't really brown. They were a bright gold and it was beautiful.

Hermione suddenly looked up, catching Draco looking at her. He almost blushed at being caught.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. There was no doubt about it: she definitely had tears in her eyes. "You don't deserve this."

"Thank you," Draco replied after a moment.

"I know you don't want to, but I still think you should go to Dumbledore. You don't want to become a Death Eater, do you?"

"No," Malfoy responded. "But I don't have a choice. Even if I did stay for the winter holidays, he's my father. He'd track me down. This is his last chance because I won't be coming home this summer. He'd find some way to get to me, believe me. I know," he said darkly.

"But, Dumbledore can protect you! There's so many things he can do to try to keep you safe! Just… Just think about it, okay?"

Draco nodded and Hermione handed Draco the letter, picked up her book, and headed back to her room. She could have sworn that she heard Draco whisper a 'thank you' as she left the room.

* * *

Draco sighed from where he sipped his Firewhiskey at the Slytherin celebration party.

The party was just like all the other ones had been: alcohol, girls willing to do _anything_ for the champions, everyone drunk. But, Draco didn't seem to be enjoying himself as much as he had at the past Slytherin victory parties.

He enjoyed the alcohol (he had had a great need of getting drunk for the longest time) and he certainly wasn't pushing the girls off of his lap, but there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he just couldn't seem to ignore, no matter how much he drank.

"Hey, Draco," Pansy said seductively. She sat on his lap. "You should have another drink. You've barely had anything," she continued, handing him a full bottle of Firewhiskey.

Pansy was drunk. Draco had seen her get drunk within the hour that the party had been going on. She had drink after drink, making her way around the room and onto every guy's lap. They offered her a drink if she would do what they wanted and she always accepted.

Draco wasn't worried about her. She was nothing to him; only cheap sex when he needed it. But, Draco was certain that she was having issues at home.

Pansy's father was another version of Lucius. Threatening, imposing, and power hungry. Malfoy knew that Pansy's father abused her; there were bruises covering her body. He had asked her about it, but she just shrugged it off, saying, "I just get in the way." As if Draco didn't know the truth.

It was hard to see the bruises and scars, but as observant as Draco was, he noticed new bruises and scars that couldn't possibly be from her father. He wasn't sure if she abused herself or if it was the many people she fooled around with that hurt her, but he never sad anything about it. He knew better.

"Sure," Draco replied, taking the drink from her hand. He drank it in one gulp, almost wincing at the burning it caused in his throat. He caught himself just in time and forced the grimace into a sexy smile, pushing the silky hair out of his eyes.

Pansy smiled in return and handed him another drink.

Draco knew that he probably shouldn't get drunk because he couldn't control himself when he was intoxicated and he didn't want to do something he would regret. But, Pansy kept giving him more drinks, pressing herself closer to him the more drunk they got. Somehow, Draco couldn't seem to resist the drinks and continued to inhale them.

Soon enough, Draco was so drunk that he couldn't see straight. Pansy kept on offering herself to him and Draco wondered how much longer he'd be able resist her fairly tempting offer.

* * *

A few hours past midnight, Hermione was still in the common room reading. She just couldn't seem to put her book down, despite protests from her slowly closing eyes. 

She jerked awake again, rubbing her eyes and turning the page.

_I'll just read until the end of this chapter._

As soon as she finished the chapter, she found that she wasn't as tired as she had been. She stood from where she had been curled up in front of the fireplace and stretched out her legs, walking around the room. She finally settled herself in the couch Draco usually sat in. The pillows were so much fluffier and it was the perfect position to receive the warmth from the cackling fire.

Lying down, Hermione clutched her sweater tightly around herself as she pulled her book into her lap.

_Maybe just one more chapter._

Normally, Hermione wouldn't spend the entire night reading a book of Ginny's, but it was fairly interesting. It was one of those washy romance novels that people like Parvati Patil fawned over. Hermione never once thought she would be interested in those kinds of books, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Bryan, the main character, was determined to win back the intelligent, yet beautiful scientist, Hannah, who was currently dating Bryan's brother, Shawn, but she was secretly in love with Bryan.

_Bryan burst open the door to Hannah's laboratory. She gasped and looked at the door alarmed. "What are you doing here?"_

_Tell her, Bryan! _Hermione thought, surprising herself at how much she got into the story. _Tell her you lover her and can't live without her!_

As Hermione plunged deep into that world, falling in love with blonde boys named Bryan, she melted into this romance, forgetting her surroundings and being just another character in some sap's love story.

Hermione's sleepiness wore off and she settled herself into a comfortable position, ready for a late night.

Suddenly, a noise broke the comfortable silence. It was the portrait hole and it had opened.

Startled, Hermione looked up from her book. She knew Draco was at the Slytherin celebration party and if she would have checked her watch, she would have seen that the party had ended an hour ago.

Since the toasty fire was the only source of light in the room, Hermione couldn't make out the figure. There was a very tall frame, long robes covering chiseled muscles, and long light coloured hair.

"Who's there?" Hermione called out, feeling ridiculously frightened.

"Relax, Granger. It's j-just me. This is m-my common r-room too," he stuttered, hiccupping between each word.

"Malfoy?" Hermione guessed.

"No, it's Merlin."

Draco was obviously immensely intoxicated and didn't have a clue what was going on. It was amazing that he had found his was to the common room by himself.

"You should get to bed, Malfoy. You're drunk," Hermione told him, not getting up from the couch. If he could make his way to the common room, he could find his way to his room.

"Aw. I didn't know you cared." Hermione didn't respond, but turned back to her book, though she wasn't reading.

The Head Girl couldn't help noticing that Draco had not moved from where he stood. She looked up. Draco wore a confused expression as he held his head with his hands.

"Malfoy? Are you okay?" She asked.

"Whoa," he muttered before toppling to the ground.

Hermione jumped up from the couch, her book dropping to the floor. She made her way to Malfoy and saw him lying on the floor.

"Malfoy? Malfoy!" She yelled, trying to wake him. She slapped him across his perfect pale cheek and shook him, but he seemed to react to none of these.

Hermione sat by his side, thinking about how horrible it would look for her fellow Head to have died when the only person around was herself. Not that he was dead, just unconscious or sleeping. Yeah, sleeping. That was it.

Hermione went through numerous amounts of plans of what to do and didn't notice Draco's eyes flutter. He opened them immediately and grabbed Hermione's wrist tightly. There would be bruising later.

The Head Girl let out a gasp as her eyes met his cold ones. His orbs bored into hers until she finally had to look away. He looked around and rubbed his head. As soon as Draco noticed he was still clutching her wrist, he let go.

Hermione rubbed her wrist painfully and stood up, heading back to the couch.

"Aw, Granger, did you try to help me?" Draco asked sarcastically from behind her.

"Oh, sod off, Malfoy. You're drunk," Hermione replied, laying back down and picking her book off the floor.

Draco took a step towards her and seemed to be testing his legs out. He took a second step, then a third, and before long, Draco was standing at the foot of the couch. Hermione sat up uncomfortable at the closeness of them, considering Draco was intoxicated.

Malfoy sat down beside Hermione on the couch and she attempted to get up, but Draco pulled her back down. He rested his head on her shoulder and she wore a puzzled look.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Hermione asked, trying to push him away. He wouldn't budge.

"My head… it hurts… so dizzy… please…" He mumbled.

Hermione felt sorry for him. The fact that he was hopelessly drunk really said something to her. Though, despite all this, they weren't friends. They never had been and probably never would be. Hermione felt uncomfortable and tried to push Draco away once again, but he took her hands. Before Hermione could attempt to pull away, Draco had pressed his lips onto hers.

At first, Hermione couldn't register what he had just done. She jus sat there while Draco worked expertly with his lips, making her feel a million different things at once. Then, she knew.

It was like fireworks had exploded. Everything seemed foggy and she couldn't remember where she was. Her mind was a complete blank. There were no thoughts, only her insides screaming and she couldn't stop it.

All at once, Hermione pulled away, feeling startled and more that a bit shaken up.

"Malfoy, what are you—"

Draco pulled her to him again and the rest of his sentence was lost in his mouth.

No, there were no thoughts, only fireworks. Vibrant, endless, wonderful colours that exploded in Hermione's mind. And all at once, she felt alarmed.

She didn't know what she was doing.

Hermione tried to pull away again, but Draco's hands were already pulling her closer.

Always closer…

Draco, at least, knew what he was doing. That was clearly obvious. He used the couch to his advantage.

The Head Boy lay Hermione down on the couch, never breaking from her lips. She had stopped trying to pull away for she had suddenly realized that it was far too pointless. The more she struggled to get away, the harder Draco would hold her to him, kissing her.

Draco worked his skills with Hermione's mouth and she just followed his lead, feeling wonderful, but knowing very well that this was her worst enemy and that he was hopelessly drunk.

After what seemed like far too soon, Draco pulled away and stared at Hermione like he had no idea who she was or what he was doing. Hermione stared back, confused beyond belief. Within a second, Draco had untangled himself from Hermione and walked out of the room into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Draco left a bewildered Hermione laying on the couch, her lips tingling and his taste still fresh in her mouth.

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone for reading. I really like this chapter, even though it's not as long as the last one. What do you think of this chapter? Please let me know what you think about the end of this chapter! Love it? Hate it? Let me know…

_Oversized_ thank you's to:

**mysteriouscharm**

**thedreamz**

**reallynotfaith**

**AmericanIdiot252**

**draco2hot4me**

**Miss Extraordinary**

Thank you for reviewing! If you haven't reviewed, it's a good idea, I'm telling you! You'll get… a piece of candy! **-**Gives candy to those who reviewed**-** Thanks!

**Coming up in Chapter 6: **the aftermath of the kiss, hiding, screwed up thoughts, action in the common room, and a nighttime rendezvous.

Chapter 6 is a good chapter, I promise. It's just not very long.

I would always love more reviews, so please review! Thanks!

xDreamerx


	6. The Way I Am

**Chapter 6- The Way I Am**

_**The song for this chapter is "Cold" by Crossfade.**_

It was a frigid, gentle breeze that woke Hermione the following day. She stirred under Gryffindor coloured blankets and pulled them tightly around herself, savoring her four-poster's warmth. Her head ached.

_I had the worst dream_. She thought, rolling over. _I dreamt that Malfoy came into the common room and we…_

Hermione's eyes shot open.

"Holy Hell," she said aloud. "We kissed!"

* * *

Draco rolled onto his back, opened his eyes, and groaned.

What a hangover!

His head pounded, sending shots of pain throughout his entire skull. Draco clutched his churning stomach, which was making strange gurgling noises. It was all he could do to keep the massive amounts of alcohol he had previously consumed in his stomach. Draco's throat burned as he shifted on his bed, never finding a position to ease every sick part of him.

He'd never felt worse in his entire life. Well, maybe he had, but that was an entirely different story.

Worst of all, the drinking wasn't where it ended: of course not. There were always several drunken acts of Draco Malfoy. That was one of the main reasons he didn't drink often. He always did something stupid.

Only, this mistake topped them all. This had to have been the stupidest thing he'd ever done because even though he was drunk, Draco knew what he did. Through the intoxication, Draco knew what he was doing and couldn't stop it.

Draco had willingly kissed his worst enemy several times; Draco kissed Hermione.

And the worst thing about it? He liked it.

Of course, Draco regretted it and had firmly decided that it would never happen again; he supposed there had been worst kisses in the world… and far worse kissers.

Draco didn't even know why he was thinking about the stupid girl. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not waste their time or thoughts on people who weren't worth it. Draco firmly refused to think that way about any girl because they all meant nothing to him. They were more like items used for pleasure and nothing more. He refused to throw away his thoughts on that know-it-all Gryffindor because she was nothing to him at all.

Draco nodded in confirmation of his thoughts and blocked her from his mind. He stood up and then sat back down. The dizziness in his head was immense.

Sighing in frustration, Draco stood again, ignored the wave of nausea that came over him, and looked at the clock. It was too early for even Hermione to be awake.

Draco headed to the shower, trying desperately to think of anything but a certain brown-haired Gryffindor…

* * *

The day proceeded normally: Draco and Hermione both tried to ignore each other. Hermione took to hiding out in the library, worshiping her books for they always comforted her in the exact way she needed. Be it not for Hermione's obvious obsession with the library, Draco would have gone there. Instead, he chose to spend the time in his room and the common area for he knew Hermione would avoid him. The odd thing was that the Heads' room almost seemed lonely without Hermione's flamboyant presence there.

While Hermione threw herself into her studies, Draco threw himself into the magazine, starting as much as he could for the issue that didn't have to be done for a week.

The Head Boy had received another letter from his father. Another threat, another command… nothing had changed. He was fairly frightened, but whenever he thought about how it would be when he returned home for the winter holidays, he could hear a small, pleasant voice.

_"I know you don't want to, but I still think you should go to Dumbledore. You don't want to become a Death Eater, do you?"_

_No,_ Draco thought. _You don't know how much I don't want to be a Death Eater…I'm not my father…I don't want to be._

_"…Dumbledore can protect you!... Just think about it, okay?"_

_I've thought about it… Dumbledore could protect me like I'm some helpless little first year, but that's weak and Malfoys are anything but weak. I can't be weak, but I don't want to become a damned Death Eater…_

"What should I do now?" Draco wondered out loud.

He had expected an answer from the vacant room, but hearing none, he sank to the couch and closed his eyes, drifting off to his personal dreamland where none of his dreams had a happy ending.

* * *

Hermione couldn't concentrate. She knew that she had read the same sentence about a hundred times and if asked, she still couldn't recite what it said; she was too busy thinking about the previous night.

Sure, Hermione had been kissed before, back in fourth year when Viktor Krum had an infatuation with her. He gave her a quick, shy kiss on the lips that barely lasted a second. However, the kiss she shared with her enemy was so different.

With Viktor, it was like kissing her grandmother. Of course, Hermione liked her grandmother, but she wouldn't want to date her. Hermione told Viktor as soon as he kissed her that she just wanted to be friends. There was nothing behind the kiss and therefore, she couldn't have a relationship with him. They had stayed good friends since then.

But, with Malfoy, she was caught off guard. She had never thought in a million years that Malfoy would kiss her, but he had. Hermione could remember pulling away a few times, but Draco only pulled her closer.

Did he know what he was doing? Did he know that he had kissed _Hermione_? Did he remember? Did he care?

A million questions flew through the Head Girl's mind as she sat in the library. She had long since set her book down and was now starring blankly at the wooden table she sat at.

She didn't know what to think anymore.

Besides having side feelings for the mysterious boy from the ball, Hermione had never fancied someone. It was strange to feel that she might have feelings for her worst enemy.

She wasn't even sure she had feelings for him. Hermione Granger having a crush on pretty-boy Draco Malfoy? It was beyond ludicrous! No, she didn't have feelings for him and that was final. They had always been enemies and that wasn't about to change. Hermione just felt sorry for Draco and wanted to help him out, that was all.

But, Hermione still got goose bumps whenever she thought about their kiss…

* * *

"Have you seen Hermione? I haven't seen her all day," Hermione said to her that afternoon.

"No, I haven't. Do you think she's still in the Heads' room?" Harry responded.

"Only one way to find out."

Harry and Ron made their way from lunch in the Great Hall to the portrait for the Heads' room. They knocked.

"What!" Came a cold voice as the portrait was opened. The figure smirked at the sight of the two boys standing before him. "Well, well, well. It's Weasel and Pot Head. Come for a chat?"

"Oh, sod off, ferret-boy. We're looking for Hermione. Is she here?" Ron asked, with a glare. Draco smirked again, examining his nails casually.

"Maybe, maybe not. Why should I tell you?"

"Bloody hell, Malfoy! Just tell us if she's here or not!"

"Oh, you didn't hear? She didn't tell you? Granger and I have finally gotten together. We have late, _late_ nights in the common room--"

Harry had to hold Ron back from lunging at Draco and tearing him limb from limb.

"Like Hermione would actually want someone like _you_, Malfoy," Harry replied, glaring. A strange emotion passed Draco's eyes, but it was gone in an instant. It made Harry feel extremely uncomfortable because he couldn't identify the emotion; Draco was the last person he had expected it from.

"Just tell us where she is," Harry commanded. The fighting spark was gone from Draco's eyes and he just sighed.

"I don't know. I guess in the library," he answered, emotionless. Harry gave him a curt nod and dragged Ron in the direction of the library.

* * *

Hermione was flipping through a book, not really reading it. She hadn't eaten anything, but she wasn't about to risk seeing Draco, and so, chose to ignore her growling stomach.

While she had been in the library pretending to read, she had really been soaking in her thoughts and had come up with a few conclusions of her own about a couple of things.

The boy from the ball was civil, sweet, mysterious, and charming. Draco was the complete opposite—everything Hermione hated in a person. He was sarcastic, rude, annoying, and way too conceited. It was sickening and Hermione couldn't help hating every time he sent a snide remark her way.

And yes, there was something behind their kiss and Hermione knew Draco had felt it as well. She wanted desperately to know what was there for she had never felt anything like it before, but she knew there was only one way to find out and she didn't want to have to discover it that way.

Hermione sighed and glanced out the window; it was a beautiful day. She wished she was outside instead of cooped up in the library.

"Hermione!" Came a voice. Hermione looked up and saw Ron and Harry standing before her.

"We've been looking for you," Ron told her.

"Well, I've been here," she replied.

"Are you hungry? You missed breakfast and lunch."

Hermione stomach screamed to be fed, but she tried to ignore it again.

"No…I'm not hungry," she responded.

"Well, we've got Quidditch practice. We just wanted to know where you were and if you were okay… we'll see you later?"

Hermione nodded and gave a weak smile.

"See you."

Now, to make it until the library closed…

* * *

Hermione was finally kicked out of the library at nine o'clock that night. Because she was Head Girl, she was allowed to stay one hour extra, but Madam Pince firmly refused to let her stay any longer.

So, Hermione trudged back to the common room as slowly as she could, praying that Draco wouldn't be there.

She whispered the password to the sleepy portrait and silently stepped inside.

The first thing Hermione noticed was the smell of the room; it was the scent of Firewhiskey: a _lot_ of Firewhiskey.

The second thing was over a dozen empty bottles of Firewhiskey on the ground at the foot of one of the couches—thus, the interesting smell of the room. Then, Hermione was the outcome of the alcohol.

"Bloody Hell," she whispered.

On the couch was a shirtless, very intoxicated Malfoy with an equally top-less Pansy on top of him.

Hermione was hurt and she assumed it was because they were doing this in the common room which belonged as much to her as it did to Malfoy. She hated them 'going at it' in something that belonged to her as well.

Though, Hermione felt another feeling and she couldn't place it. The kiss they had was an accident, wasn't it? And, she didn't have feelings for Draco obnoxious Slytherin Malfoy, right? At least, she didn't _think_ she had feelings for him.

Hermione tried to leave quietly before they saw her, silently thanking them for being on Draco's couch, not hers, but the floor creaked when Hermione took her first step. The two Slytheins broke of their kiss and looked in her direction. Hermione froze in fear, not knowing what they would do or how they would react to her walking in on the middle of this.

Their reactions, however, her surprisingly different. Pansy rolled her eyes and kissed Draco again, but Draco pushed her away quickly and wasted no time shoving her off of him.

"Oh, I'm, uh, sorry," Hermione muttered and started to rush to her room, not wanting to witness more than she already had. What she had seen alone was enough to scar her for life.

"Wait!" Draco called to her.

"What!" Pansy exclaimed in disbelief.

Hermione turned to face Draco in surprise and astonishment.

"What?" She asked in an emotionless tone.

What was Draco going to say anyway? 'I'm sorry I felt something during our kiss that shouldn't have happened'? 'I'm sorry you felt something too, or else you would have pulled away'? 'I'm sorry for almost sleeping with Pansy after kissing you'? 'I'm sorry for being drunk'? Or 'I'm sorry for the way I am'? None of these seemed to work, though the last one seemed to be the most logical and accurate.

So, Draco just sat there a moment, while lines flew through his head, thinking of what to say. He seemed to reject everything because nothing was any good. It just wouldn't work. When his mind finally caught up with him, all he could do was respond with a rude remark.

"Enjoy the show, Granger?" He asked, smirking. Hermione rolled her eyes and went to her room.

What did she expect anyway? For Draco to go on his knees and proclaim his undying love to her? She wasn't even certain that she had any feelings other than hatred for him.

So, slipping into her sleeping clothes, Hermione told herself that she didn't care. Malfoy and she were enemies and she hated him just as much as she always had, if not more since she now had to live with him and put up with him more than usual. And that was it; case closed.

* * *

Draco lay awake staring at his ceiling. He couldn't help replaying the scene of what had just happened. He was still slightly drunk, but a lot more sensible that he had been.

Despite everything, Draco couldn't help feeling that he didn't hate Granger as much as he used to. Spending time with her allowed him to get to know her as more than the bookworm, know-it-all prefect everyone else saw.

By no means did Draco think he _liked _her or any nonsense of that sort. He disliked her very much, just not as much as he had when he was younger. Draco simply figured that this was him growing up. He'd finally learned to get past their childish rivalry.

But, still, he couldn't stop thinking about the kiss that shouldn't have happened. He felt something that he'd never felt before; something that he couldn't explain or describe; something he shouldn't have felt, especially with who he had felt it with--Granger, of all people!

But, Draco needed to know what that feeling was. He needed to know if it had really happened or if it was just the Firewhiskey. So, sighing and getting off his bed, he decided to find out.

Yes, it would be a bit drastic and uncharacteristic of him to do what he was about to do, but he knew that there was no other way. He hated it, but he knew this was something he had to do if he wanted to find out what had given his this feeling—the Firewhiskey or Granger.

* * *

At precisely two-fifteen in the morning, there was a quick and prompt knock on Hermione's door, which shattered the peaceful silence.

"What!" Hermione yelled, turning so that her back faced the door. Her shout was only replied by another knock.

Hermione sighed and threw her blanket off herself furiously. She stood, slipped on her slippers and made her way towards the door.

"This had better be worth it," she muttered to herself.

Hermione sighed again and opened the door. She couldn't figure out who the person was since the person was in the shadows. As soon as she opened her mouth to ask quite rudely why the person had waken her and what this person wanted, the being stepped forward and pressed his lips onto Hermione's.

Hermione wasn't stupid this time. She knew she was being kissed and it felt familiar and comfortable. As she relaxed into the kiss, her eyes fluttered shut.

Yes, Hermione knew that it was uncanny of her to let this stranger kiss her in the middle of the night, but it _was_ just past two in the morning and she wasn't processing anything clearly. Her mind hadn't begun to function yet and she wouldn't be herself until much later in the morning.

It was an odd feeling. It was almost as if Hermione didn't know what was going on, but at the same time, she felt skilled and experienced.

An anomalous feeling, it was, to be kissed, knowing that she had little power to control it. Being as early as it was, Hermione had barely managed foot movement. Now, to stop what was going on, well, it would take a little time before she could manage that much.

Hermione knew in the back of her mind that she should be able to tell who this person was; his flavour was so familiar and there was something distinct and recognizable about it. But, Hermione wasn't awake enough to figure it out. All she knew was that kissing him felt good and she didn't want to stop, even as extreme and unrealistic it was to the person she really was.

It seemed that all too soon, the person pulled away. But, before their lips could leave each other's, Hermione kissed him back and it took him by surprise. He soon regained himself and kissed her with as much passion that she had.

_There's something familiar about his taste…_

And suddenly, like running straight into a brick wall, it hit her. She broke off the kiss and immediately slapped him with as much force as she could muster.

"What the hell!" Draco yelled, clutching his reddening cheek.

"How dare you!" Hermione yelled back.

"If I can recall correctly, you kissed me back!"

Hermione glared at him for a moment before turning on her heel and walking into her room and slamming the door in Draco's face.

Draco stood at her door, her taste still lingering in his mouth. He smirked his old smirk before entering his room.

Even though it was evident neither of them wanted to, Draco had definitely felt something and he knew Granger had felt it too.

* * *

The following morning, Hermione woke after an hour of sleep. She hadn't allowed herself to think about the second kiss between her and Draco. After it happened, she went straight to sleep, but could only sleep an hour. Now, she walked silently to the bathroom, using all her strength to push the incident from her head. Only when she stepped into the shower, turning the steaming water on, did Hermione allow herself to think of it.

_Okay, so what really happened? I have to look at this logically and explore all aspects of it. Malfoy came to my door and just… kissed me for no apparent reason at all. And, I may be insane, actually, I probably am, but I liked it. It's about time I start being honest with myself if I'm not going to tell anyone else this. No matter how much I hate it, I have to tell the truth, even if it's only to me. Especially if it's only to me. It's worse when you lie to yourself…_

_But, I can't have feelings for _Malfoy._ We're supposed to be enemies! I'm supposed to hate him just like I always have! He's obviously with Pansy, judging on the oh so lovely incident I witnessed last night. He's with Pansy and…_

_I just have to face it: I don't hate Malfoy. That doesn't mean I like him as a person though. I just… don't hate him as much as I used to; as much as I did in the past. I mean, I'm seventeen now and this is just me growing up, isn't it? Whatever it is, I don't hate him. I dislike him, but hate is a strong word. I don't like to hate anyone. _

_Okay, so truth be told, I don't hate him, as much as I loath the very thought of not hating Malfoy._

_I don't hate Malfoy. There, it's out. Now I can do something about it. But, what?_

Hermione switched off the water and wrapped a towel around her body. She didn't think that she needed to cover up much more because Draco was still asleep and wouldn't see her.

Hermione stepped out of the bathroom and as she was walking through the common room to reach her room, she heard a very distinctive noise of someone clearing his throat. She froze, looked up from where she stood, and sucked in a breath of air quickly.

Draco was sitting on the couch, feet crossed and resting on the table, his arms folded behind his head.

Draco looked her up and down. Her curly hair pooled over her shoulders and was still dripping wet. Her towel only went to her thighs, showing off her attractive legs and her entire body was still wet for she hadn't bothered to dry off much, obviously thinking that she wouldn't run into Draco on her trip from the bathroom to her bedroom.

Hermione tried to cover herself, but deciding that it was no use, she say on the couch opposite Draco. She figured it was the right time to do something about what had been happening between them recently.

_I can't believe I actually sat down. I need to just get up and walk to my room to get dressed. I'm in a towel for goodness sake! Just get up and walk quickly to your room before Malfoy sees any more than he needs to. _

However, Hermione's mouth moved faster than her legs and she spoke instead of walking away.

"Um, M-Malfoy? I think we should talk. A little while ago when, um… you were drunk?"

Draco picked up on what she was trying to say immediately. She was talking about their first kiss, obviously.

"Yes, I was," he responded. It was a nice tone: not rude, not sarcastic, and just civil and… understanding.

"Oh. Well, then, last night?"

"No. I wasn't drunk last night."

Draco saw her trying to hide her smile and he couldn't help but smirk as he saw her bite her lip in the cute way she always did. She _could _be cute in a sort of twisted way when she wasn't even trying to be. Not that Hermione ever tried to be cute. She didn't care about those kinds of things.

After much thought and no sleep the previous night, Draco had come to a final decision, as much as he detested the very thought of it. He knew he couldn't lie to himself for he did it too regularly already. The truth was that he didn't hate Hermione. He barely disliked her anymore. By reading Hermione, he knew that she didn't hate him as well.

Almost smiling, Draco knew that if he wanted to see what was there with Hermione then he had to offer her something nice and let her know that something between him and her was as much okay with him as he knew it was with her.

"It-it was nice," Draco said, surprising himself. Hermione smiled and nodded slightly.

"So, what now?" She asked, not entirely sure where they should take things from there.

There was a long pause in which they both pondered this, until Draco finally spoke up.

"I don't know," he said and they both smiled.

And it was like and unspoken understanding. They didn't hate each other and might feel something for one another; they were willing to see what was there and give it a shot. Now they both knew it.

Smiling again, Hermione tucked a damp curl behind her ear and went to her room, shutting the door quietly behind herself.

**Author's Note:** Ah, crappy, crappy writing. My apologies for the short chapter as well. I know it's a sucky chapter and I'm sorry for the crappy writing, but you'll have to make due until I can post again. Terribly sorry.

I really am sorry for the long wait for this chapter. Everything has been really stressful since school started August 16th for me (ah, high school truly does suck!) and I haven't had the time to write or post. What with writing my other story and I believe I will be starting another one as well… where do I find the time?

As always, thank you to those who reviewed! –gives candy-

So… this chapter? The worst ever? Review please. I love hearing from you.

_Jumbo_ thank you's to:

**AmericanIdiot252**

**contagiousbeauty**

**thedreamz**

**xoKaSsIeox**

**mysteriouscharm**

Also, thank you to those who read, but didn't review! Review this time!

**Coming up in Chapter 7:** All nighters, same old fights, the Hospital Wing, non-visitors, worries in odd places, fluff (of course it had to come!), letters, the second ball, and a little bit of scandalous action.

----One scene of chapter 7 is going to have to be rated R for sexual content and I'll say that it is R right before the scene. If you skip over it, it's pretty obvious what happens, so you won't be missing anything.

Now, it is WAY past my bedtime and I'm practically falling asleep, so I will go get some much needed sleep. G'night and sweet dreams!

xDreamerx


	7. The Winter Holidays

**Chapter 7- The Winter Holidays**

_**The song for this chapter is "Work" by Jimmy Eat World.**_

December began and school work became increasingly more difficult as the teachers tried to squeeze everything in before the winter holidays.

Hermione and Draco barely in the first few weeks of December, but even when they saw each other, it was all work. They hadn't kissed again, though they pulled many all-nighters in the common room; it was all work and no play.

Draco and Hermione weren't in a relationship and didn't act like it, but things definitely hadn't gone back to the way they were. Hermione and Draco were constantly at each other's throats, but they did get along better when they weren't arguing and they usually made up.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead. She and Draco were in the common room working on the magazine. She put her head in her hands and closed her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked.

"You care?" Hermione asked rudely. Draco didn't say a word, but looked back down on the article he was editing. "I'm sorry," she said, rubbing her eyes. 'I just have the worst headache. I think we've pulled too many all-nighters."

Hermione yawned and couldn't remember the last night she had gotten any sleep. It must have been at least a week ago. She set her work on the seat next to her and closed her eyes, trying no to fall asleep. The only thing that had been keeping her awake was the potions she had recently become addicted to.

"Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?" Draco asked, not looking up from his work.

"…N…N-no, I d-don't think…"

Draco looked up. It wasn't like Hermione to stop mid-sentence, unless it was Draco cutting her off.

"Granger?" He stood and walked towards her. "Granger?" He shook her, but she didn't move. "H-Her-Hermione?"

Hermione was motionless. Draco told himself that he wasn't worried, but that it would look bad if he didn't take her to the Hospital Wing. So, picking her up easily, that's just what he did.

"Mr. Malfoy! What seems to be the problem?" Madam Pomfrey asked as Draco entered the room.

"I don't know. I just found her like this," he lied easily, setting her gently on the nearest bed.

"Well, thank you for bringing her here. You should be in bed! You can stop by to see her tomorrow."

Draco rolled his eyes and walked out of there. He knew he wouldn't be visiting Hermione.

_Now I have twice as much work to do and I was starting to think I'd actually have sleep tonight. It's all Granger's fault._

But even as Draco thought this, he couldn't help not feeling angry. He knew it wasn't her fault, but he knew she'd be fine. It was just one more sleepless night that he didn't need.

* * *

Draco wasn't there when Hermione woke up. He wasn't there when Hermione was asleep and he wasn't there the whole three days that Hermione was kept in the Hospital Wing.

It wasn't like he owed her anything. They'd kissed twice, and she had to tell herself that maybe it wasn't supposed to mean anything.

_I guess it didn't mean anything to him,_ Hermione thought.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Ron asked, snapping Hermione from her thoughts.

"What? Yeah, I'm just…" Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead.

She had been in the Hospital Wing for three days and was told that she would be let out the next day. Hermione was tired of being looked after and she was tired of being visited by everyone but who she wanted to visit her. Not that Draco was that person. Hermione couldn't seem to figure out when she had left behind the thought of 'Draco Malfoy, the enemy.' To tell the truth, Hermione wasn't sure how much she liked these new-found feelings. To be perfectly honest, she hated them.

"Hermione?"

"I'm just tired," she said, ignoring how she had stopped mid-sentence.

"Oh, sorry, we should let you sleep," Ginny said. "Come on, Ron, Harry."

"Can you bring my homework? I must be so behind!" Hermione exclaimed, realizing that her classes went on, whether she was there or not. She was absolutely terrified that she'd never catch up and that she'd had work piled up, waiting for her when she was released from the Hospital wing.

"I doubt it, Hermione. You've read the textbooks too many times to be behind. You ought to teach the classes by this point!" Ginny said, smiling. "But, I'll bring your homework after dinner tonight."

"Thanks, Gin. I really appreciate that."

"I know."

They all left and Hermione sighed. She had every intention of reading the book Ginny had brought her, but as soon as she opened it, she couldn't concentrate. Hermione kept reading the same sentence and didn't comprehend a word of it.

_So, I have some kind of feelings for Malfoy. I don't want to and I've always hated him and everyone in the whole school is practically obsessed with him. So, why the sudden change of heart? Is it because I'm growing up or because he kissed me? Am I really that shallow and superficial? I mean, it's not like I like him or have a crush on him or anything. I surely don't fancy him. Maybe I can just stand Malfoy better now that I've matured and gotten older, or maybe, I've learned to stand him since I have to live with him. But, we're always fighting. Could I, Hermione Granger, actually have a "thing" for him? Could I actually have those kinds of feelings for someone like Draco Malfoy?_

And that was the last thing she thought before slumber overtook Hermione. She slept from that morning to dinner the following day without waking up or moving an inch. And, though later she would complain about how unproductive it was for her to have been sleeping instead of working, she knew that spending that time sleeping was next to the best feeling in the world.

* * *

It snowed for the first time the day Hermione was allowed out of the Hospital Wing. She was feeling better and well rested, but not ready to go play in the never-ceasing snow like the rest of the Hogwarts population was.

As Hermione trudged to her room, her books weighing her down, she told the portrait the password and stepped inside.

"Oh, how are you?" Draco asked Hermione when he heard her walk in. She said nothing. "Granger?"

"What!" She snapped.

"Well, you just came back the Hospital Wing and I was wondering how you're doing."

"Why do you care?" Hermione asked coldly, setting her books down on a desk.

"Well, you fainted in front of me, leaving me with your work to do and leaving me to carry you to the Hospital Wing. I think I deserve to at least know how you're doing."

"I'm fine! Do you think I would have been let out if I wasn't fine?" Hermione asked crudely.

Draco stood, taken aback. He made his way towards Hermione and grabbed her, forcing her to look at him. She winced.

"What the fuck is your problem!" Draco yelled.

"You! I'm sure you had fun while I was in the Hospital Wing!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Draco asked, gripping her tighter.

_You didn't visit me at all in the Hospital Wing! I wanted you to…_

Draco let go of her and smirked, because he knew. It was like he had read Hermione's mind.

"You're mad because I didn't visit you in the Hospital Wing, aren't you?"

"No," Hermione said, but her 'no' had sounded exactly like a 'yes.' She rubbed her arms where Draco had been gripping her.

"Yeah, right. Why would you want me to visit you anyway? It's not like we're dating or anything. It's not like I owe you anything."

_I know,_ Hermione thought, but his words still stung for some reason.

Hermione turned to leave, but Draco grabbed her arm and turned her back to face him.

"Look," he said, staring at the ground. "I couldn't have visited you if I wanted to. We don't really have something between us, but how would it have looked if I went to see you?"

"It's all about how you look to others, isn't it? If you really wanted to, you could have found a way."

"No, I couldn't have. There was too much work to do. I still haven't gotten any sleep. But, I, um…" He looked at the ground in what Hermione guessed was embarrassment. "I was worried, okay?"

Hermione broke out into a huge smile and lifted a hand to his cheek. Draco looked at her and smiled in return. Then, Hermione kissed him very quickly and very lightly on his lips. It was something she had wanted to do for the longest time and once she had done it, she turned to leave because of her humiliation, but Draco wouldn't hear of it. He pulled her back to him and kissed her, his arms going around her waist pulling her closer.

Hermione smiled, breaking off their kiss. She picked up her books and face Draco.

"I'll be right back," she told him.

When she came back into the common room, she held a book in her hand. She took Draco's hand and led him to a couch where they both sat down. Draco draped a blanket before both of them, put his head on Hermione's shoulder and he was asleep before she opened her book.

* * *

The second ball approached and the Heads and Prefects were working hard to make it flawless. The band was already booked and all they had to do was put up the decorations the morning of the ball. It was the first Saturday of winter break and only a handful of students were returning home, but even they wished that they could have stayed.

It was the week before the ball and Draco and Hermione were in the common room working on the magazine.

"Do you have the Arithmancy article?" Hermione asked Draco.

"Yeah, it's in my room." He stood and made his way to his room, but when he returned, he was carrying more than just the Arithmancy article.

"What's that?" Hermione asked him.

"An owl from my father. It was from my bed." He opened it cautiously, but it was just a letter: he sighed in relief.

Sitting on a couch, Draco read the letter and Hermione went back to work, figuring that if Draco wanted her to read it, he would tell her to.

After reading it, Draco set it down next to him and sighed. Hermione couldn't take it.

"What did it say?" She blurted out, hoping Draco wouldn't get mad at her for asking.

"It was just finalizing plans about me coming home for winter break. You can read it if you want."

Hermione set down her quill immediately and sat on the couch next to Draco, picking up the letter.

"Go to Dumbledore! He'll help you," she told him.

"He wouldn't even know where to start," Draco replied darkly.

"Please, Malfoy--"

"Why do you always call me 'Malfoy'?"

"W-What?" Hermione asked, caught off guard.

"Why do you always call me 'Malfoy'?"

"I don't know. Because you call me 'Granger.' I guess we were never formally introduced."

Draco nodded and after a moment of silence, he held out his hand.

"Draco Malfoy. You may call me Draco." Hermione laughed, but took his hand.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Hermione Granger. You may call me Hermione." She shook his hand and they both laughed.

There was silence and then Hermione remembered what they had been talking about.

"D-Draco?" It felt weird coming from her lips. Draco smiled at his name coming from her.

"Yes?"

"Please?" Draco sighed. "Dumbledore will know what to do to keep you safe. I'll go with you, if you ant, or I can talk to him for you. Just, please?"

"Why do you want me to go so badly?"

"Because… Because I don't want you getting hurt and I know you don't want to be a Death Eater, and if you don't go home you won't become one because, even if your father does come here, Dumbledore can protect you so that your father can't get to you, so, just, please talk to him?"

Draco looked and Hermione. He could tell that she was really worried about him and that made him smirk, but he caught himself just in time and turned the smirk into a smile, lifting a hand to stroke her cheek.

"Okay," he said, kissing Hermione lightly. She smiled back and stood, dragging Draco with her.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Going to see Dumbledore! Come on!"

And Draco sighed and allowed himself to be dragged to Dumbledore's office, wondering when he had become whipped by someone that he wasn't even in a relationship with.

* * *

The second ball seemed to have snuck up on them all. Draco had accepted Dumbledore's help, though reluctantly. He stayed at Hogwarts for the winter holidays, but he always had it hanging over his head that he had asked for help for the first time in his life.

Hermione, on the other hand, was overjoyed. It wasn't that Draco was staying, she told herself. She had just helped him and that's what mattered. She helped someone who needed help. Hermione saved a life, or rather, thousands, if one really thought about it.

As the night of the ball came, Ginny helped Hermione get ready. Ginny would be attending this ball with Dean, but things between them hadn't been going well. They had been on and off dating for almost two years and they had recently been fighting about every little detail. Hermione knew that they were about to go off again.

"See, Hermione! I knew these robes would fit you! You can't wear the same robes you wore for the last ball!" Ginny exclaimed happily as Hermione spun around in one of Ginny's dress robes.

"Thanks, Gin. But, my other robes were just fine." Ginny rolled her eyes.

The robes that Ginny lent Hermione for the night were a midnight blue and made of a satin material. The fabric felt heavenly against Hermione's skin, and, though the robe was a little tight-fitting for Hermione's liking, even she had to admit that she had the curves for it. Hermione _did_ look good and she smiled at her reflection.

Ginny had already perfected herself and was working to make Hermione look stunning.

Hermione's hair, which had been done my Ginny, was left down for the first time. Only, Ginny had somehow un-frizzed it. Hermione's hair was in silky, tamed curls, which suited Hermione much more than looking as if a bush was resting atop her head.

"_Sit_, Hermione. I need to do your make-up."

Hermione couldn't stop smiling and sat, oblivious to how she had just agreed to let Ginny do her make-up.

"So, who are you going with again?" Ginny asked, applying a light gold-ish eye shadow to Hermione's eyes.

"Anthony Goldstein," Hermione replied.

"Who?"

"Anthony Goldstein," Hermione responded. "You know, Ravenclaw, prefect, seventh year. I have Charms with him."

"Oh. So, is he cute?"

"Ginny!"

"What? Well, I'm done," she said, and Hermione looked at herself in the mirror.

Gold eye shadow played across her eyelids and made her eyes a golden bronze. A touch of eyeliner made her eyes stand out beautifully. A slight amount of blush gave Hermione's face a warm, but shy glow and a clear gloss was lightly applied to her lips, causing them to seem full and desirable.

"Wow. Thanks, Ginny."

"See, I told you that if you let me do your make-up, I'd make you look amazing, but _no_…" They smiled and reached for their masks, putting them firmly in place.

"Ready?" Ginny asked.

"Ready."

And they opened the door and stepped out.

* * *

The Great Hall looked oddly different then when Hermione had been decoration it earlier that day. It was full, for one thing, but because everyone was festively dressed and looked their best, it made the hall look more beautiful.

Hermione stepped in with her date and caught herself before she gaped at the Great Hall.

It looked much like it had for the first ball, with the streamers and candles. The only difference was that there were balloons charmed to float in mid air and there were banners and tapestries representing each house. It hardly looked different, but looked amazing nonetheless and still left the Hogwarts population in awe.

The band playing was one that had just come out. They were new and alright, but no one could remember the name of their band.

"What would you like to do first?" Anthony asked Hermione, snapping her back to reality.

_Find the mystery boy_, her mind said and Hermione smiled.

"Let's get something to eat," she said and they headed in that direction.

Hermione seemed to inhale her dinner, meanwhile searching for her mystery boy. She wanted another fairy tale and he was just the person to give it to her.

Hermione knew that he had forgotten about her and that she was just wasting her time with someone she didn't even know, but still, she couldn't help feeling that glimmer of hope that hung in the air.

"The hall looked really terrific. We really did a great job," Anthony said and Hermione nodded and smiled.

"We really did, didn't we?"

They both looked around a moment until Anthony broke the silence.

"So, this band, they're pretty good, huh?" He asked.

"Yeah. Do you remember their name?" Anthony shook his head and Hermione laughed.

"Well, would you like to dance anyway?" He asked and Hermione agreed, taking his hand.

* * *

Draco arrived, unsurprisingly with Pansy. It was all about his image and Pansy had practically begged him to take her. It was pathetic, really. Draco almost felt sorry for her, so he agreed to go.

Pansy immediately pulled Draco onto the dance floor, pressing her body against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair. It was then that Draco took control, tightening his arms around her slim waist. She giggled and kissed Draco hard, catching him off guard. He let go of her immediately, to his own astonishment.

"What is it? Do you want something to drink, baby?" Pansy purred, stroking his hair. He pulled away from her.

"I'm not your boyfriend; we're not dating and I'm not your _baby_. But, I'll get us drinks. Get a table," Draco ordered. Pansy looked as if she were about to cry, but she obeyed.

Really, the only reason Draco had wanted to fetch the two of them drunks was because there at the drink table was his mystery girl.

Draco went swiftly towards her, his black dress robe swishing behind hi. He had no clue what he would say to her, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was there and he didn't seem to care about anything else.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Draco whispered in her ear. She jumped and turned, a beautiful smile graced her features.

"It's you!" She said, feeling ridiculous.

"Were you hoping it was me?" He asked. The mystery girl rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm glad I saw you," he said, taking two drinks off the table. "Save a dance for me." He winked and turned, walking away. The mystery girl smiled and watched until he disappeared in the crowd.

Draco found Pansy waiting eagerly. He sat and she smiled, placing her hand on his knee.

Taking Draco by surprise again, she kissed him, only this time, while she kissed him she took a vile full of clear liquid from her dress robe and slipped the liquid into his drink.

Draco pushed her away angrily, but didn't say anything about it this time. He only sighed, wiping his mouth, and drank his drink in one gulp.

"I'm going to the bathroom," he said, standing. He wobbled a little, but steadied himself and went across the room.

"May I have this dance?" Draco asked his mystery girl. The clock rang the time—11:45 PM. There was only fifteen minutes left of the ball.

The girl looked to her date, who smiled and nodded, though quite reluctantly. She smiled and took Draco's hand. He led her to the middle of the dance floor.

"So, do you like Quidditch?" Draco asked, at a loss as what to talk about.

"Not especially, but I have friends who play. Do you play?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"What position?"

"Nope, no specifics," he said.

"Fine, then."

"So, what house are you in?" Draco asked, hoping she would tell him this time.

"You asked that at the last ball. I'm not telling."

"Then I'm not either."

"I didn't even ask you what house you're in," she replied.

"I know," Draco said and they both laughed.

The song suddenly changed. A slow melody played and the two of them got closer. It was evident that this was the last song of the ball and the candles dimmed.

They danced in silence, savoring the feeling of being in one another's arms. As the last notes of the song were played, the clock struck midnight and Draco reached for his mystery girl and kissed her.

The kiss was all too familiar. Draco knew that he didn't know this girl and that she had never been just another one of his whores, but there was something oddly recognizable about the kiss and he liked it.

The mystery girl's mask started to slip and she broke off the kiss and held her mask up. She didn't say anything, only smiled and left out of sight.

Draco smiled, running a hand over his lips.

"Draco!" Came an annoying voice. Draco closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened his eyes, Pansy was standing before him.

"Here, you look thirsty," she said, handing his a drink. He swallowed it in one gulp and it was then that he realized that Pansy had been slipping him a mixture of alcohol and a strong love potion all night. Now, he was not only hopelessly drunk, but feeling a strong love for Pansy.

"Will you make love to me, Draco?" Pansy whispered. Draco looked at her a moment before nodding.

"I know the password to the prefect bathroom," he said, his words slurring. Pansy's face lit up and she led his there, helping him to walk because she couldn't on his own. He was too intoxicated.

* * *

Hermione came to her room after the ball and changed out of her dress robe, hanging it up to return to Ginny later.

She'd had a reasonable good time with Anthony. He had been nice and he had been quite a gentleman, but Hermione couldn't see anything more than a friendship with him. She didn't know why, but he was mostly her type and still, she didn't fancy him. It was a mystery to her, but Hermione couldn't force herself to fancy anyone, so she just tried to follow her heart this time, no clue where it was leading her. She was following blindly, really, and not liking one but of it.

Hermione changed into comfortable pants and a tank top and headed back into the common room. Draco still wasn't back from the ball. It was 12:45. Hermione shrugged and grabbed her book from the desk. She lay down on her favourite couch and pulled a blanket over herself. It was then that she opened her book, waiting for Draco to return to the common room.

**

* * *

_A/N:__ This is the R scene… If you skip over it, you won't miss anything, I promise!_**

Meanwhile, only a few floors underneath the Heads' room, an intoxicated Draco and an eager Pansy stood outside the prefects' bathroom. Draco slurred the password and the door opened. They both threw their masks on the floor once they entered the room.

"Lock it," Draco muttered as the portrait closed behind them. Pansy obeyed like a trained dog.

"Draco?" Pansy said, nearing the Head Boy. "Draco, Lucius said you would be marked with the Dark Mark over the winter holidays."

"Yeah? So?"

"Well, the thing is… you're here, not there. I mean… why? Aren't you getting marked?"

Draco hid his emotions by masking his eyes expertly. He knew, though drunk that he had to play it cool.

"That bastard Dumbledore made me stay because of my Head Boy position. There was too much work to do, so he made me stay."

"He can't _make_ you stay."

"Well, he did, okay!" Draco shouted, his voice echoing in the spacious room. Pansy cowered, but drew near him a minute later.

"Want to see something?" She asked, lifting up her right sleeve. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Draco couldn't help but gape. There on the snow white flesh of her forearm was the Dark Mark, still slightly puffy and red around the edges.

"I had it done this summer. It still hurts a little… I can't wait for you to get yours done!"

Draco scowled, but knew that he couldn't show what he felt, especially to Pansy, who had too many connections to his family and the Dark Lord.

"Just shut up and let's do this," Draco growled, grabbing Pansy roughly by the waist.

"Wait!" Pansy said as Draco leaned down to kiss her.

"What!"

"Drink this," she said, pulling out a clear liquid—obviously the love potion/alcohol mixture she had been feeding Draco the entire night. "You'll feel better," she promised.

Draco stared at Pansy a full minute before grabbing it and downing the alcohol in one gulp. He threw it on the floor and pulled Pansy towards him, kissing her hard.

As Draco's mouth captured Pansy's, he pulled at her dress robe, but it was so tight-fitting that he couldn't get it off. Pansy broke from his lips briefly as she ripped off her dress robe. Draco kissed her again as Pansy pulled off his robe.

Pansy broke off the kiss and pulled Draco towards the bathtub. It was as big as a pool and had the matching depth of a pool. Pansy turned on the water and the tub filled with water and bubbles quickly. She smiled, slipped off her remaining clothes and slipped in the water quickly, as if she didn't want Draco to see her naked.

"It's nothing I 'aven't s-seen 'fore," he stuttered, smirking.

Pansy stared at Draco's boxers, hoping he'd peel them off before entering the water, but he only slipped in with them on.

Dunking under straight away, Draco surfaced and slicked his hair back, sighing as the warm water flowed around his obviously well-toned body.

After a couple of laps around the tub, Draco settled himself across the bathtub from Pansy. She smiled and swam towards him slowly.

As soon as Pansy reached him, the Head Boy kissed Pansy, his hands roaming her entire body. He was drunk and it was quite evident.

Pansy kissed Draco back with all the pent up love she had for him. As Draco's mouth roamed, Pansy's hands slid down to Draco's boxers. She quickly slipped them off and they fell to the bottom of the tub, forgotten.

Their bodies were pressed together and Pansy moaned in delight. Draco caught her lips in a brief kiss before his lips traveled down her neck. She gripped the side of the bathtub.

"Draco…" She moaned. He kissed her. "Draco, I-I love you," she said, panting.

Draco traveled down from her neck and then up, catching her lips with his.

"Draco… Tell me you love me."

"What?"

"Tell me you love me."

"I… I love you," he said, breathing heavily.

"Oh, Draco…" Pansy screamed, her voice echoing in the bathroom, but the silencing charm kept it in. Their sounds were kept all to themselves.

* * *

Hours later, Draco emerged from the prefect bathroom, fully sober. He was completely annoyed and down right pissed with himself for sleeping with Pansy. He was just drunk and needed a good lay.

"Draco," Pansy purred, following Draco. She grabbed his hand in attempt to hold it, but he pulled away roughly. "What's your problem? I love you!"

"Yeah, you and half the Hogwarts population. Get used to it, babe."

"But you told me you loved me! We had sex!"

"You're a slut, I was drunk, and I just wanted a good lay. You're easy, that's all there is to it." Pansy attempted to slap him, but Draco caught her hand and threw it back towards her. He started to walk away, but Pansy grabbed him.

"Please don't leave," she begged. Draco just smirked and shook his head at her, walking away.

**Author's Note:** More crappy writing… Okay, I have to say that I am more than sorry for the long wait… I hate excuses, but let me dish out a few:

-Drama in my life has been endless and difficult to deal with

-School sucks and is really hard right now

-Laziness is what I'm known for

-And, I had no time with the drama and school taking up my life! Damn life! XD

On the plus side, this was a very long chapter! It's longer than most of my others!

Let's see… How was this chapter? I know it's crappy writing and boring, but let me know what you think prett please!

_Whopping_ thank you's to:

**AmericanIdiot252**

**mysteriouscharm**

**thedreamz**

So, keep reading and reviewing! I love to hear from you all!

**Coming up in chapter 8:** Lies, deep thoughts, strong feelings, fluff, craziness, breaking up for good, Braccola, a little 'PMS' (as one of my editors puts it!), surprisingly getting drunk, almost going too far, and an unfortunate and disastrous fight causing it all to get messed up.

Once again, it's past my bed time and I'm really tired! Sorry for the late post again, and happy readings! Or sweet dreams, in my case!

xDreamerx


	8. Drop Dead

**Chapter 8- Drop Dead**

_**The song for this chapter is "A Little Less 'Sixteen Candles,' A Little More 'Touch Me'" by Fall Out Boy.**_

The portrait creaked and then slammed shut. There was a very distinctive 'damn' coming from Draco, who had just stepped into the Heads' common room. He whispered 'damn' as the portrait slammed because he noticed Hermione asleep on her couch, book open across her lap.

Startled, Hermione gasped and sat all the way up.

"Where have you been?" She asked, rubbing her eyes. "I was waiting for you because you didn't come back from the ball. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, but didn't want to sit next to her for fear she would smell Pansy on him. Draco wasn't dating Hermione, so it wasn't like he couldn't see other girls, but he knew that Hermione finding out about his night with Pansy would upset her. He didn't want to cause her distress, but he was also too tired to get into a fight with Hermione.

"Hey, I'm going to go take a shower, but when I'm done, what do you say you and I have a little fun?" He asked, suggestively. "We've both been working hard and we deserve it."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling at Draco. The Slytherin walked towards her, gave her a light peck on the lips, and swept off to the bathroom to shower.

Hermione smiled and licked her lips. There was an unfamiliar taste along with Draco's on her lips and she couldn't figure out what it was.

Shrugging, Hermione lay back down and opened her book once again.

* * *

When Draco finished his shower, he emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but boxers and drying his hair with a towel.

He smiled when he saw Hermione, for she was fast asleep on her couch. He went to her and picked her up gently, careful not to wake her. He strode to her room, and set her down on her bed, pulling the covers over her delicate frame.

Still smiling, Draco conjured a single silver rose and placed it on the bed next to Hermione's face. Silver rose, green stem. Silver and green. Who said Malfoys couldn't be romantic?

Leaning down, Draco kissed Hermione's forehead. She stirred in her sleep and her eyes fluttered, but they didn't open. Hermione only muttered incoherently. Draco smiled and ruffled her hair.

"Shh…" Draco whispered, taking her hand in his. He kissed her hand and then swept from the room, closing the door silently.

As Draco walked back to his room and as he sat on his bed, he allowed his mind to wander to Hermione and his new-found feelings for her.

Draco couldn't help himself. He was falling for Hermione Mudblood Granger and he knew it. He smiled when he thought about how Lucius would react. He could see it now:

"Hey, Lucius. I just wanted to say that I've fallen for that Mudblood Hermione Granger. Oh, and by the way, I'm not becoming a Death Eater because I hate Death Eaters and the Dark Lord and I hate you."

Yeah, that'd work.

His father would want him to fall for someone like Parkinson because she was pure-blood, rich, and both she and her parents were already Death Eaters. Yeah, that'd happen.

Draco knew he had to distance himself from Hermione because she was a Mudblood, but he didn't want to. It was like Hermione saw through his act to who he really was. But on the other hand, he was a Malfoy. Malfoys didn't disgrace themselves with having anything to do with Mudbloods. They were filth and that was drilled into Draco's head since he was young. He didn't want to distance himself from Hermione. "Needs make you weak."

Draco could hear his father's voice screaming though his head.

_"Needs_ make you weak."

It echoed through his room.

"Needs make you _weak_!"

_"NEEDS MAKE YOU WEAK!"_

Draco lay down, his head throbbing as if his father had screeched these words directly at him.

Malfoys were anything but weak.

Draco had no idea what to do.

* * *

Hermione woke late the next morning, but refused to open her eyes. Maybe she could get a few more hours of sleep in.

As the Head Girl lay there in her bed, a sweet, familiar scent reached her. She smiled and forced her eyes open.

Hermione was surprised to see herself in her bed, but knew that Draco had to have taken her there.

Seeing what made the sweet scent cause Hermione's smile to grow. There beside her lay a single rose, the petals silver: only Draco.

She picked up the rose, held it to her nose and breathed in all of the addicting faint smell.

Hermione lay on her back a moment before standing up and walking out of her room and across the hall to Draco's door. She knocked lightly, but hearing to response, she turned to head back to her room.

"Hermione?"

She hadn't heard him open his door.

Hermione smiled as she turned around. He had used her name.

Draco stood at his door, wearing nothing but his boxers, his eyes barely open. He had just woken up.

"Sorry. I didn't know if you were awake. You can go back to sleep. Sorry," Hermione apologized again. She turned to leave, but Draco caught her arm and pulled her back towards him.

"Wait, it's okay. I'm up now, let's make the best of it," Draco said, smirking. Hermione rolled her eyes, but Draco already pulled her towards him, kissing her.

Hermione reacted immediately, her hands going around his neck, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair. Draco's hands were around her waist, applying the least amount of pressure.

Then, all at once, and very suddenly, Hermione put her hands on Draco's chest and pushed him away from her. Draco gave her a questioning look and leaned in to kiss her again, but Hermione pushed him away. Draco was angry this time.

"What?" He asked, louder than he needed to be.

"We need to work," she said sternly.

"Bloody hell, is that all you do?" Hermione glared.

"No, but we really do have to work." Hermione turned and walked to the common room, expecting Draco to follow her, but she only heard his door close.

"Hey!" She said, banging on his door. "We have to work! Open up!"

Draco opened the door laughing. Hermione glared, and pushed him aside, sprinting into his room.

Draco's hormones went into effect. She was running to his bed. She was in his room, running to his bed. What was she thinking?

But Hermione only laughed, stood up on Draco's bed, and jumped.

"Hey! You're messing up my beautiful bed!" Draco pouted, but Hermione only jumped higher.

Draco ran to her, and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her down when he fell. They both landed on the floor, Hermione on top of Draco.

Draco smirked at their compromising position and how Hermione was on top of him while the only thing he wore was his boxers.

"Wow. I knew you couldn't get enough of me, but this?" Draco said, shaking his head at Hermione. She rolled her eyes and Draco smirked.

The Head Girl stood up and pulled a reluctant Draco up with her. Draco pouted again and Hermione just walked away. Draco hand no choice but to follow, stomping his feet like a two-year-old.

* * *

"Yeah, and I suppose you had nothing to do with her wanting to borrow _your_ notes! And I suppose you expect me to believe that low cut top with half her boobs hanging out was for the bacon!"

Hermione stepped into the Gryffindor common room and was greeted by a screaming, red-faced Ginny. She and Dean were having another fight. Hermione gasped as Ginny threw a book at Dean.

"Take your notes back! I never want to see you again! I hope you and _her_ are happy together!"

"Yeah? Well maybe we will be!" Dean yelled back. Ginny threw another book at him. Dean threw both books back, but Ginny ducked and they hit the wall.

Hermione had to restrain Ginny from lunging at Dean in her anger and Dean stepped around then to storm out of the common room.

"It's over!" Ginny screamed at Dean. She pulled away from Hermione and turned to face her, straightening her hair.

"It's over," she told Hermione. "It's over for good," she said and she stormed upstairs, leaving Hermione to gape at the scene she had just beheld.

* * *

"Harry? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Professor Braccola asked, catching up with Harry, Hermione, and Ron in the corridor. Ron and Hermione wanted to stay, but Braccola said, "I'll only be stealing him for a moment. You two can wait outside." And he winked.

He winked.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she and Ron stepped into the corridor while Harry and the professor entered a classroom.

"He winked," Ron said in disgust.

"Something doesn't seem right about him," Hermione said.

"Braccola? He's a bit daft, but seems pretty harmless. What are the chances of Dumbledore hiring a Death Eater… again?"

Ron shrugged, but Hermione still looked uneasy. A minute later, Harry emerged from the room.

"So, what did he say?" Ron asked as the three of them made their was to the Gryffindor common room.

"He was just talking about how I can make a patronus and all that. He was saying how my magic improved and how he'd like to give me extra lessons Monday nights where he'd teach me more advanced spells and such. I'll need it when Voldemort comes back again."

"Harry, I don't know if it's such a good idea for you to be taking private lessons from him."

"Why, Hermione? Look, if he's willing to help me improve my magic and teach me more defenses, I don't see what the trouble is. I'm bound to meet up with Voldemort again this year and whatever Braccola has to teach me can only help me when I do meet Voldemort again."

"I know, Harry," Hermione responded. "I just have a bad feeling about him…"

"Well, anyway, I have my first lesson tonight. Eight o'clock."

"This is where I have to leave you guys," Hermione said at the place she always separated from Harry and Ron to head to the Heads' room.

"Why don't you come hang out with us?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, spending all that time with Malfoy can't be healthy," Ron said. Hermione blushed visibly.

"Well, he is the Head Boy and I'm Head Girl. It wasn't a choice, but if it were, I still would have chosen to be Head Girl, even with all the responsibility it comes with. Dra--Malfoy and I have to work a lot together because we're Heads. It's not like I choose to spend time with him."

So a little white lie wouldn't hurt.

"Sorry, Hermione. No need to get defensive," Ron replied.

"Defensive? I'm _not_ defensive! I'm only pointing out that I don't have a choice! You're on my case about something I have no control over!"

"Sorry, Hermione. You know I didn't mean it like that."

"Whatever. I need some time to cool off. I'll see you guys later," Hermione said, and she walked off to her room.

* * *

As the winter holidays progressed, Hermione and Draco spent more time together in the common room. Most of it was work for the magazine, but a good chunk of their time was spent snogging in the common room.

As for their feelings for each other went, they both knew they had a strong attraction to one another. Hermione knew Draco was handsome and could tell why girls fawned over him. She saw a sweet side of him which made her heart melt and cause her to never want to leave his side. There was also his tempermental, Bastard side which Hermione loathed, but she found a strange rush when she was arguing with him.

Draco found Hermione pretty, to say the least. On most occasions, he would say she was beautiful and he wondered why most boys hadn't seen it before. He found it hilarious when she was cross with him and loved to make her angry, but her smile made his heart jump painfully into his throat. She was wonderful and insane all at once and Draco couldn't seem to get enough of the gold-eyed Gryffindor.

Hermione pushed a book off of her lap and placed it on the floor, stretching her legs out on the couch she occupied. She stretched and yawned, looking over to Draco. His eyebrows furrowed as he read a confusing part of his book. Hermione smiled at the sight of him. Draco look up to Hermione and his eyes met hers.

"Sick of work yet?" Draco asked, mockingly. It had been her idea to get to work. It was always Hermione's idea to work.

Hermione sneered and yawned again.

"I'm so tired. We haven't been getting much sleep lately. There' just too much work to do when you're a Head," Hermione said.

"Well, it _is_ always your idea to work. There's better ways to tire you," Draco replied, smirking. He frowned when Hermione didn't seem to pick up on what he was suggesting.

"I know it's my idea, but at least this way, more than half the work is done. We can pretty much relax from here on."

"Well, would you rather go to bed now?" Draco asked, half hoping her answer would be no.

"Not really. It's too early to sleep. I don't feel like sleeping, but I don't know how much longer I can keep my eyes open," Hermione said, yawning again.

"Well, if you want, I'm pretty sure I have a few cases of Butterbeer in my room," Draco replied.

"Really?" Hermione asked. Draco nodded and stood up to fetch a case of Butterbeer.

When Draco returned, he set the case on the floor. It was a plain brown case with nothing on it.

"This is a special brand; a more expensive brand." Draco rolled his eyes. "So it's more of a clear colour. Don't worry; I'm sure it's Butterbeer. I keep my cases of Firewhiskey properly labeled.

Hermione nodded and Draco threw her a bottle. She caught it easily; her reflexes were amazing. She would have been brilliant on a Quidditch team, if only she could stand the sport.

Draco smiled as he watched her struggle to open the bottle.

"Do you need help?" He asked.

"No," Hermione replied, determinedly. He laughed when she sighed in defeat a minute later.

Draco walked over to her, kneeled, and opened the bottle easily. Hermione glared.

"Thanks," she said. Draco smiled and kissed her gently. She smiled and bit her lip, making room for him on the couch she sat on.

Taking a swig of her Butterbeer, Hermione made a face. This definitely was a new brand. It tasted nothing like the Butterbeer Hermione had had. Shrugging, Hermione had another long drink and immediately felt more awake. She smiled, taking another sip.

Within a few minutes, Hermione was on her second drink. It made her feel alive, awake, and she forgot about all her problems and the work load weighing her down. She simply forgot it all existed. Her head swam with simple thoughts and she felt so carefree and burden-less.

Draco laughed as Hermione moved on to her third drink. He wasn't drinking any as he was used to sleepless nights and the sleepiness didn't affect him whatsoever.

"This is really good. I like this brand. It doesn't taste like any Butterbeer I've ever had. It's… stronger and more… it makes me feel good," Hermione said, laughing.

"I'm glad. I like it too." Hermione reached for another drink. "You might want to slow down there," Draco said and Hermione giggled. She couldn't seem to stop. Draco wrinkled his forehead. It was only Butterbeer, wasn't it? Butterbeer didn't do this to people.

Curious, Draco picked up a bottle and took a swig. He almost spit it back out. This was definitely _not_ Butterbeer.

"Um, Her-Hermione? This isn't Butterbeer. I think my boxes got switched around. This is Firewhiskey. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get you, er, drunk," Draco said, taking the drink from her hand. Hermione laughed again.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it," Hermione drew closer to him. "You know, we've been working too much lately. We deserve a little fun," she said and Draco looked at her uneasily. She was drunk and Draco didn't want her to do something she'd regret. He longed to go farther than they had gone; it had never taken this long for Draco to "bed" a girl. But, Draco didn't want to take advantage of Hermione. He wasn't sure Hermione was ready to go all the way with him. Not yet.

Hermione came closer and kissed Draco Her kisses were always gentle, innocent, and were exactly what would be expected from her. Draco loved being kissed by Hermione.

Draco responded by pulling her closer, deepening their kiss. She now lay on top of him, his arms around her slender waist. With one swift movement, Draco took control, shifting so that he was on the top; he was in charge.

Hermione smiled into the kiss, running her hands through Draco's long, silky hair.

Draco didn't necessarily feel comfortable kissing Hermione while she had accidentally consumed a few Firewhiskeys, but she was such a shy innocent girl. What could possibly happen?

The question soon changed to 'what couldn't possibly happen' as Draco's hand tugged on Hermione's robes. He didn't even know he was doing it. As soon as he realized that her school robes were half off, he stood up from the couch, knocking Hermione off of him, and he stepped backwards from her.

"What?" She asked, breathing heavily. Her eyes seemed slightly glazed—she was still intoxicated.

"I, um," he ran a hand through his hair. "I…You're drunk. You… I, um…you're just drunk."

"So? I'm not really, anyway. I've only had, like, three drinks. I'm fine," she said, standing in front of Draco and placing her hands on his chest. She leaned in to kiss him and he pulled away.

"The point is that you've had something to drink," Draco said.

"What? You don't want to go further with me? Sure, I'm good enough to kiss in the common room when we're alone, but you won't go further? What, I'm not good enough? Is that it?"

"Of course it's not. I just… this isn't what you want. Least of all with someone like me."

"How do you know what I want? Maybe this is what I want. You don't know. But, let's talk about you for once, _Malfoy_. Why don't you just be honest for once and tell me what you want instead of having me guess what you're thinking? Do you really not want this, of is it me that you don't want? Why don't you tell me how you really feel for once?"

"I…I don't know how I feel. I-I care about you, Hermione, and that's why I won't let you do this. You only want this because you're drunk," Draco told her, knowingly.

Hermione stepped towards Draco again, but he didn't move away from her this time. She was so close that Draco thought she was about to kiss him again, but she didn't.

"Do you want this?" She whispered. "Do you want to go further with me?"

Draco didn't speak. Hermione's eyes bored into his and he had to look away, unable to mask his eyes. He hated how she had the kind of power over him; he couldn't stand not being in charge and in control at all times.

Hermione lifted a hand to stroke Draco's cheek. She was still drunk and Draco was pretty sure that she knew she was.

Draco's eyes met Hermione's unasked. His eyes mirror her want, longing, and desire and she kissed him.

Draco wasn't sure how long he could control himself, his emotions, and his hormones. He wanted her. She was beautiful and untainted and he didn't want to ruin that, but he wanted it for himself. He wasn't sure if he would restrain himself and what scared him the most was himself.

As they kissed, Draco let loose and kissed her with more hidden passion that he'd ever showed before. It took Hermione by surprise, but she was more than happy to let Draco be in control.

Hermione's small, fragile hands slipped off his robes and broke from his lips long enough to undo the buttons on his shirt. Draco captured her lip in another head-spinning kiss and they walked backwards towards the bedrooms and entered Draco's, collapsing on his bed. Hermione had lost her robes somewhere along the trip there and a few of her buttons on her shirt had been undone.

Draco let a trail of kisses from her mouth to her neck, where he stopped, sucking on the sweet skin there. Leaving a reddish mark that was slowly purpling, Draco moved back to Hermione's lips. He stopped suddenly when he felt Hermione reach for the belt on his pants.

This was wrong and he knew it.

"Wait, stop," Draco whispered, breathing heavily.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"I can't."

"Why not? You've done every other girl in this school," Hermione retorted.

"But you're drunk and I care about you more than those other sluts. I'm sorry, but please," Draco pleaded Hermione with his eyes. She sneered and her intoxication became more apparent.

"Never did I think I'd see the day when _Draco Malfoy_ would--" But Hermione was cut off because of the combination of alcohol and lack of sleep had finally made her black out.

Draco sighed in relief. He slipped his blanket over the both of them and fell asleep, leaving a good distance between him and Hermione. She was too much of a temptation for him.

* * *

Light, filtered by the dark green curtains, streamed in through the window, onto the two sleeping students. A brown haired girl stirred and sat up suddenly, waking the boy beside her. He sat up.

It was then that Hermione notice her blouse was undone, showing off her lacey white bra. She pulled the blankets over her chest and looked at Draco, questioning him with her eyes. She couldn't remember many details of the previous night.

"No," Draco said, reading her mind. "We didn't."

"Thank you," she replied after a moment. "Thank you, Draco, for not taking advantage of me."

"It wasn't easy when you were literally throwing yourself at me," he said, smiling. Hermione smiled back and kissed his cheek. They both lay back down, Hermione's head resting on Draco's bare chest, Draco's arms wrapped around her. They fell back asleep, in each other's arms.

* * *

Hours later, Hermione and Draco emerged from the Heads' room. They were headed to lunch, having missed breakfast. Since they couldn't be seen together, they would be leaving separately.

Once they stepped out of the portrait, Draco pecked Hermione on the lips and set off for the Great Hall. Hermione was to wait a moment before setting off herself.

When the Head Girl turned around, Pansy stood before her. Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Aw, ickle Mudblood's all alone," Pansy murmured. Hermione sighed.

"What do you want?" She asked.

"Northing." There was a long pause. "You know I'm pregnant with Draco's baby?" Hermione's eyes widened as a quiet strangled noise escaped her.

"And I care why?" Hermione replied, not meeting the Slytherin girl's eyes.

"The night of the second ball a few days ago, Draco made love to me after telling me the loves me. We're arranged to be married once school is out," Pansy told her, smiling.

"Again, why would I care?" Hermione responded, but Pansy had already done what she had set out to do. She left Hermione quickly, laughing once she was out of ear's reach.

Hermione didn't know why she had fallen for Draco's act. He said he cared about her, but it was all a lie. She hated him more that anything on the entire planet.

Sinking to the ground, Hermione began to cry betrayed, heartbroken tears.

* * *

Draco entered the common room after lunch. Hermione hadn't shown up and he was concerned. She was in the common room on her couch, starring at the fire.

"Hey. You weren't at lunch," he said, nearing her. He stopped when she looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes. "Are you okay? Whatever it is, it's going to be okay, alright?"

"Don't come near me," she whispered.

Draco read the look she sent him. She was hurt and he didn't know why. She sent him hatred, loathing, and her look told him that she despised him. Hermione was broken and the pain seemed to come from deep within. It hurt Draco to see her like this.

"What?" He asked, smiling. He came to her and put a hand to her cheek. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

"Don't touch me," she hissed coldly. Hermione jerked away from him and Draco's gaze hardened.

"What the hell is your problem?" He yelled. Hermione flinched slightly, but maintained her glare.

"You! It's true then? You shagged that bitch the night of the ball? The night I stayed up waiting for you? The night I asked you where you were and you wouldn't answer? Please tell me she lied," Hermione begged, her eyes filled with betrayal.

Draco hung his head. He didn't know what to say for the first time in his life. Hermione wasn't supposed to find out. It surprised Draco to know that if hurt to hurt Hermione.

"I was drunk," Draco whispered. "I didn't mean to. She got me drunk. I'm-I'm sorry."

Draco never apologized. His words even surprised him.

"Get out of my sight. You disgust me. I-I _cared_ about you and you… you're filthy! I-I… I _hate_ you!" Hermione tried to slap Draco, but he grabbed her wrist.

"Why? Because she got what you want? We're not dating, if you recall. I don't owe you anything. I never said we were together or that I wouldn't shag around with anyone else. I kissed you when I was drunk and you thought it meant something? You're just a mudblood that no one will ever want," Draco told her. Tears streamed down Hermione's cheeks as she tore her wrist from Draco's grasp.

"I hate you," she sobbed. She wiped her cheeks and this seemed to renew her temper. "God, I _hate_ that word! Mudblood—dirty blood. No one is perfect and being pureblood doesn't make you any better than anyone else!" Hermione pounded her fists on Draco's chest in anger, wanting to hurt his as much as he hurt her. "I hate your stupid messed up discriminations! I won't ever be good enough, will I? Haven't I proved that blood doesn't matter? If you cut me, I still bleed the same colour as everyone else! If you hurt me, I still feel the same feelings of pain as everyone else! I hate-I hate _you_! I hate you! I hate you!"

A steady stream of tears ran down her cheeks and onto Draco as she collapsed onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around her as she cried. When her sobs died down, he spoke again.

"She's really pregnant?"

"That's what she said."

"Damn. I didn't mean to. I was drunk and she took advantage of me… I really didn't mean to…"

"You never mean any of it, right? You'd take it all back if you could, right?"

"I'm sort," Draco whispered.

"Why?"

"Because I care about you."

"Yet, you slept with Parkinson. If that's how you show people you care, you were clearly taught the wrong way. Is it all a game to you? You play nice for a while and see how long you can get away with it? I have feelings, you know, or is that too much of a surprise to you? Yes, Mudblood's have feelings just like everyone else. Why do you find it fun to play with me? Why is it fun to hurt me, to dangle me out on a line, just to drop me the next minute? Why do you like to put on an act and laugh when I fall for it? Yeah, I fell for your act. All I wanted to do was help you, against my own advice. All it really comes down to is that I care too much. That's my weakness, I suppose. But, I guess I have to realize that the past is real and some things and some people never change. You'll never change and I was wrong to think that you would. I'm sorry I fell for it, fell for you, but the thing is that I can't guarantee that it won't happen again. I told you, I care too much. All I wanted to do is help you, but I can't help you fix yourself."

Hermione wiped her eyes furiously before going on.

"I'm tired of you playing this stupid game! It's not a game, these are my feelings you're playing with. Why do you have this need to… to rip my heart out, throw a few insults at me, stomp on my heart, and expect me to believe that I had this coming all along? All I ever tried to do was be nice to you. Why can't you let someone care for you? And, I don't mean like those sluts do. Like I do. Like I did. But, I'm sick of being pulled around. You insult me and expect me to forgive you because you kiss me? That makes up for anything? Well, it doesn't. I'm not like other girls, in case you haven't noticed. I'm tired of you treating me like shit and expect me to come crawling back to you, begging you to forgive me. It's not going to happen. I'm sick of your stupid games!

"As far as you implying me being jealous? I'm not. I just feel sorry for you. You can't admit that you feel something for me and you won't let anyone feel anything for you. I don't blame you for being you, but I hate it.

"We're _not_ dating. You just want to kiss me and pretend like it doesn't mean anything. Well, guess what? It does. And I know you feel something for me. Why do you try to hide it? Is it really so unbearable that you feel something for me? For a stupid Mudblood? I cared about you and you said you cared about me, or was that just another of your lies?"

"I know I messed up," Draco said.

"Yeah, you did. Why don't you just drop dead?"

Hermione wet to her room, slamming the door behind her, for dramatic effect. Draco flinched at the noise.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, but she was already gone. It was already way past over.

**Author's Note:** No, I have not died some horrible, cruel, accidental death. I'm extremely sorry about how long it's taken for this post. I've been busy, but it's the end of my spring break (only 4 more days!) and spring break hasn't been completely unproductive for me! I've been writing a lot and to make up for this long update, I posted two other of my stories! They're companion stories… One of them is one point of view and the other is a different point of view of the exact same stuff. Once you read the chapter of one, you HAVE to go read the same chapter of the other! Okay, I suppose I'll give summaries… They're L/J, by the way and both rated 'M'…

**_Feed on Fear_**—(Lily's point of view) Lily Evans is fifteen, fifth year Gryffindor at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and not exactly your typical girl. She isn't taken with most of the Gryffindors, is smitten with all of the Slytherins, and is pretty much seen as the rebel "bad ass" of the school, along with her numerous Slytherin friends. She somehow made prefect and mostly struggles to get through rivalry with the Slytherins and the Gryffindors, dealing with drama, and doing her homework on time. Lily is slightly suicidal with BIG issues and impossible to handle, especially in large doses. But, what happens when a certain popular, infamous Gryffindor starts unexpectedly paying attention to her? What happens when all the school starts to notice? And what the hell is James Potter trying to do with Lily Evans?

**_Two Twisted Teens_**—(James's point of view) James Potter is fifteen as well, fifth year, and the most popular boy in school. Along with his best friends, (Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew--known as the Marauders) James runs the school and has the entire female population obsessed with the Marauders. Well, all except Lily Evans and a few of her Slytherin friends. But what happens when Sirius brings Lily Evans in to the conversation after the feast, the first day of school? What happens when Sirius, knowing James can't turn down a bet and knowing that Lily Evans is pretty much the "freak" of the school, bets James 50 galleons that he can't "bed" Lily by the end of sixth year? What happens when James finds that he can't turn down the thrill of a bet?

So, there they are. I posted chapter one of each! Read FOF and then read TTT! Review!

Anyway, thank you's to:

**Potter's-Puppet-Pal**

**Elynnzo**

**Kawii cutie. Oh soo p.h.a.t.**

Thanks, and keep reviewing!

**Coming up in Chapter 9:** The aftermath of the fight—Hermione's and Draco's (separately), Winter break that lasted forever, an invasion by an unfamiliar face, a usual Christmas present, taking care of each other, lies (again), opening up, misunderstandings, attempting to sneak around, insanity, and reading between the lines.

Sorry about the long note… Ah, keep reviewing and check out my other stories now!

xDreamerx


	9. The Best Time To Drop the Worst Line

**Chapter 9—Best Time To Drop the Worst Line**

Hermione fled to her room, locking the door behind her. She was embarrassed by the droplets of water dancing in tune with her body-wrenching sobs. She began to hiccup as a result of the heaving sobs and she pressed her back into the door behind her.

"Don't think about it," she told herself, furiously wiping away her tears with her sweater sleeve.

_And to think,_ she thought,_ I even put on makeup for him._

Hermione walked to the mirror across from her bed.

Her golden eyes that normally sparkled with knowledge and the possibility of discovering more, looked cold. A slight amount of makeup formed tear-streaked lines down her red cheeks and her delicate mouth trembled.

"Oh dear," her reflection said. "What happened to you, love?"

"You know damn well what happened," Hermione replied without meeting her own eyes.

The Head Girl sat on the edge of her bed, the remaining tears on her cheeks drying. Then, she threw up all over the golden carpet. As tears formed again around her eyes and her throat burned, she got on her hands and knees to clean it up, trying as hard as she could not to let herself cry once again.

It was simply brilliant that Draco kept doing this to her. He always just picked the best time to drop the worst line and now he'd done it again. Ferret boy strikes again. His words echoed in her mind.

The thought of Hermione falling for Draco's act and playing his twisted games made her throw up again. She sighed and cleaned it magically without even leaving a mark of where it had landed.

Hermione laid on her bed, crumpled up in a ball, the tears on her pink cheeks drying. She wasn't even angry with herself because she was ashamed that she had fallen for Malfoy's act.

"I asked for this," she told herself in her normal, although hardly cheerful tone. She laughed for a long time about Draco, about the situation, about how this was, in fact, reality and not a dream. But most of all, she laughed at herself.

"Great," she said between giggles. "I finally fall for someone and it just happens to be Draco-freaking-Malfoy. Good one."

She paced around the room, reliving the entire conversation they had just had.

Hermione swelled with pride at the fact that she had told Draco everything she had been thinking since their whole… relationship started. For once she had spoken her thoughts aloud.

On the other hand, this argument was obviously not an enjoyable experience.

"Did he use me?" Hermione asked herself, stroking Crookshanks as she lay on her maroon bed. It matched her feelings. It was a dark, half-color. That's how she felt.

_No,_ she answered herself. _He would have taken advantage of my innocence. He had the chance and he didn't. _

"Maybe he was trying to earn my trust first."

_No. He knew he had it by that point._

"Did he actually feel something for me? Maybe he fancied me, but does he now?"

_Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Hogwarts would laugh their asses off. Draco is incapable of feeling anything but coldness, right? But, then again, he started all this._

The logical side of Hermione's mind was telling her to give up and let go of these strong feelings she had for him. She knew he would only hurt her because Malfoys felt emotions so intensely.

On the other hand, Malfoys felt emotions so intensely. If by some unwanted reason they fell for each other, Draco would be… incredible.

Well, Draco started all this. He broke the line between love and hate. He blurred the line and took her along for the ride.

Then again, she didn't hate him, not even after everything he'd done and how he had broken her heart.

_Wait. If he broke my heart, that means I gave it to him in the first place._

Smiling, Hermione stood facing her mirror.

"God damn it, Draco Malfoy. I'm in fucking love with you."

She put her hands over her face.

"Granger!"

Hermione looked to her door where the panicked yell was coming through.

"Granger!"

It was Draco. Hermione would recognize his voice anywhere. Although, she had never heard it panicked and… afraid.

"Hermione!"

She ran to her door and flung it open as she heard him use her first name. She didn't forgive him, not for a long stretch, but he sounded in trouble and that's what Hermione did—she got involved.

Hermione ran to his door and it was open so she ran in.

It was dark. Dangerously dark. She reached in her pocket and pulled out her wand, lighting the room.

The green and silver was empty.

Upon closer inspection, Hermione found Draco's wand on the floor. She pocketed it and sat on his bed.

_Where would he have gone without his wand?_ She asked herself. The jealous side of her replied that he was with one of his many sluts, but she remembered him telling her that they meant nothing to him. He told her he was done with them, not only because they were tiresome, but because they were meaningless and pointless. Hermione knew that deep down those relationships made Draco lonely, though he'd never admit it.

Hermione lay on Draco's bed, thinking of where he could be, and pondering why he had seemed so afraid before.

The smell of his pillows was intoxicating. They smelled exactly like him. She was lost in his scent, which she had grown accustomed to. She pulled his blankets around her slender form and buried her face in Draco's bed. She was soon fast asleep, falling into dreams about Draco and his soft hair, intense eyes, and perfect pink lips.

* * *

Draco sighed and sat on a couch, head in his hands.

He had blown it. He messed up big time and he wasn't sure he would be able to fix this.

Draco had screwed up and he knew it.

Everything Hermione said was right. She had been honest for Draco, since he had failed to even try.

However, Draco told part of the truth. He _had _had sex with Pansy, but he had been drunk and that was the only reason he slept with her. She didn't mean anything to him.

Pansy wasn't supposed to be pregnant. Deep down, Draco thought she was lying about it.

The truth was, Draco hated hurting Hermione. He wished he had had a chance to tell Hermione that it hurt him to hurt her.

Draco hadn't been pulling an act. He was his real self and that was what scared him. The bastard Slytherin was who he was, but not only who he was. The side he showed Hermione was the other part of who he was and he wasn't trying to make it seem like an act to fool her.

Draco felt for Hermione, but he hadn't wanted to fall for her. She was the exact kind of person he knew was completely wrong for him; he knew he couldn't be with her because of both their reputations and who they both really were. And yet, Draco liked Hermione, and dare he say it, fancied her and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Draco felt something when he kissed Hermione and he didn't want that something to go away.

Sighing and standing, making his way to his room, Draco knew that he had to let Hermione hate him and he had to act like he hated her too.

Even if they were just pretending.

A sharp and distinct applause was the only sound that accompanied Draco's frustrated breathing as he burst into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

"That was perhaps the most dreadful, yet fascinatingly informative display I've seen in my young life. While it was worlds better than the Italian-Spanish opera I found myself sickeningly drawn to, it gives your last tantrum quite a run fir it's money."

A chill ran through Draco's body at the sound of the voice many had heard before taking their last breath. Draco didn't turn as he answered the voice that had emerged from the fog-like shadow in one corner of his room.

"Get out."

There was a short second of silence followed by a disapproving clicking noise from the mouth of the dark murderer. Then, the Death Eater went on as if the younger version of himself had said nothing at all. There was the tapping of expensive shoes on the green hardwood floor and a face familiar to anyone who has ever read any wizarding newspaper came into view.

Stone cold eyes gleamed with sickening excitement under a mass of white-blonde hair. A stiff smiling face revealed itself in the eerie moonlight as the clouds swam away from the gleaming orb in an uncoincidental manner.

Draco stared at his father with disdain and he returned his father's ferousious gaze. Draco maintained eye contact, refusing to give Lucius a reason to pick the younger boy apart.

After a few moments of this, Lucius took a few steps toward his son and then stopped. Draco blinked and his father was gone without a sound.

_That's not it,_ Draco thought. He looked around almost fearfully.

After a period of time in which any other person would have figured Lucius had left, Draco maintained his stiffness. He glanced cautiously around the shadows of his room and reached into his pocket for his wand. Before Draco could get the word 'Lumos' out of his semi-trembling mouth, a voice from in front of him shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Draco's wand flew out of his hand and landed on the pitch black floor. He flew to the ground, his hands shifting all over the floor, feeling for his wand, but as soon as he started, he realized that it was useless. It was like finding a piece of hay in a needle stack—more painful each second because he knew it was useless.

Draco never heard any footsteps, but a hand clutched his mouth and he felt hot breath against his cheek.

"It's time."

Draco squirmed in the hands of his capturer. He moved his legs and kicked his kidnapper in the shin. Draco elbowed his in the stomach and he was released.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered before punching his father in the face.

Draco sped to the door, but magic was faster. Lucius stood in front of Draco, clutching his bleeding nose. He laughed his infamous laugh and grabbed Draco once again. Draco couldn't move this time, for the powerful wizard had put a binding spell on Draco by simply touching him.

Realizing his door had failed to close when he attempted to slam it, Draco called out the first name that popped into his head.

"Granger! Granger! Hemione!"

"Your little mudblood bitch can't save you this time," Lucius said, anger growing. "Or your crazy headmaster. Not even Harry-fucking-Potter can save you. I'm your father and I control you!"

Before disappearing, Lucius said, in a completely even tone, "Happy Christmas, Draco."

* * *

The warm sunlight piercing through the green curtain prodded a chocolate-haired, golden-eyed girl awake. She shifted in her slumber and slowly opened her eyes.

Hermione had forgotten she had fallen asleep in Draco's bed. She blushed as she remembered her risqué dreams involving Draco.

Stretching like a cat in the filtered sunlight, Hermione stood and straightened her clothes. Mind still full of confusion and doubts about the previous night, Hermione decided that some quality time with her Gryffindor friends was exactly what she needed to clear her head and keep her mind off a certain breathtakingly handsome Slytherin.

She sauntered to her room and brushed her slightly bushy-looking hair, before headed out the portrait.

On the way to the common room, Hermione passed a classroom in which muffled voices immerged through the closed door. Curious and a tad nosy, Hermione peered through the keyhole. Although she could only see the robes of one person (presumably a man), she also noticed the green fire in the fireplace, and the hair of a face peering in the fireplace, talking to another.

"It's done! Finally, after all these years!" The head in the fireplace was saying ecstatically.

"Well, what happened last night? How did Lucius do it?" The other voice asked, his voice several volumes lower that the other man's. Hermione's ears perked up at the mention of her fellow Head's father.

"In that school, I'm surprised you don't know! He somehow found a way to get around the apparation rules and he appeared in the young Malfoy's bedroom. Mister Malfoy is now in his father's house and the ceremony is tonight. Finally, young Draco Malfoy will join the Death Eaters!"

Hermione gasped loudly and the professor in the room looked toward the door. She quickly hid around the corner, and when the coast was clear, she went back to the keyhole, but it was obvious that there were holes in the conversation from what she missed.

"…Put under the Imperius Curse. That ought to take care of him. He will become a Death Eater and the Dark Lord shall murder him for his disobedience and all the trouble he's caused! A perfect plan made by the Dark Lord, of course."

"I'll try my very best to be there," the first voice replied.

"You had better be there. If you're not, it will be frowned upon and the Dark Lord will most certainly have a suitable punishment for you. Can't you feel it burning? It's calling you. You must be there. Keep that in mind."

Then, there was a pop and the head in the fireplace disappeared.

Hermione watched a few seconds long to see if something else was afoot. What could be more than finding out that one of the professors of Hogwarts was a Death Eater? However, Hermione had a funny feeling about this, and an even stranger feeling that this person had been in Hogwarts undetected for quite a while.

The Professor stood in the uninhabited room that wasn't his. A few seconds later, he rubbed his forearm over his robe, and then lifted up the sleeve to his robe.

There on his left forearm stood the Dark Mark wiggling against his flesh.

Hermione took a cold breath of air in quickly and took several steps away from the door.

_Snape!_

* * *

A Gryffindor seventh year was seen (and heard) running down many corridors, rushing to the Headmaster's office. Once there, the Gryffindor tried different candies, as having heard from the-boy-who-lived that the password was a magical candy, with a muggle one every once in a while. Dumbledore had a certain love and fascination towards muggles.

"Cockroach Cluster!"

_No. Just think. You're a rational person, not a frantic out-of-control being. Focus. You would not have been elected as Head Girl if it weren't for your critical thinking._

"Um, Chocolate Frogs! No, Winged Newt! Snickers?"

It felt hopeless. Hermione's mind has somehow formed a blank where her candy knowledge was, not that she had much at all, mind you.

She sat down against the statue. Her mind wandered back to all she had heard just moments before.

_Someone is being put under the imperius curse and being forced to be a Death Eater, only to be killed at the Dark Lord's hand. Harry? Of course it's Harry. Anything to do with the Dark Lord has everything to do with Harry. But how will he do it? Did they already?_

_No,_ the rational side of Hermione's mind argued. _If they'd captured Harry and made Death Eater mincemeat out of him, someone would have noticed. Death Eaters can't just swoop in and steal the-boy-who-lived without anyone noticing._

_However, there's been a Death Eater here for years without anyone so much as blinking in his direction._

Hermione closed her eyes and banged her head on the wall a few times, before standing and straightening her robes. She proceeded to yell any absurd word that came to her mind at the eagle statue. Surprisingly enough, none of them were the magic words.

"Arg! Open god damn it! Fuck you!"

The statue slowly turned and a staircase revealed itself.

'_Fuck you' is the password?_

Down the stairs fled swishing robes and a tan smiling face.

"Miss Granger!" Braccola said, his eyes twinkling very much like Dumbledore's. "I hope everything is alright?"

"Oh, yes. Just a Head question for the Headmaster."

"Alright. Always a pleasure, and I quite enjoyed that extra credit report you did on werewolves. Excellent!"

_I've had a lot of experience._

Braccola walked away with somewhat of a jump in his step and Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at the older man.

"He's so strange," she whispered. She shrugged and then said, "He's harmless. Just like Lockhart."

Hermione stood there a moment and then began to hear the eagle statue turning. Remembering the reason her head throbbed and her breathing was finally returning to normal from ragged intakes of air, she turned and squeezed behind the eagle to the staircase as it closed.

Hermione let out a breath and climed the stairs as they turned, bringing her closer to a solid brown door. As she raised her hand to knock, a voice from inside called to her.

"Come in, Miss Granger."

Hermione's eyes widened, but she pushed the heavy oak doors open and stepped inside the strange yet fascinating room.

"Hello Hermione. May I call you Hermione? I figure since we're working so close together, we should go on a first name basis." She nodded. "You may feel free to take a seat wherever you'd like," Dumbledore said as Hermione stepped inside and closed the doors behind her. "Although, some choose to stand. They believe it shows strength and power. However, a bright girl such as yourself need not stand to show strength. It's written across your face." And then he said, slowly, "It glows intensely in your eyes."

Hermione found her lingering eyes drawn to her Headmaster and he was the first to look away. The younger girl sat at a comfortable chair in front of Dumbledore and twittled her thumbs somewhat nervously, her thoughts swimming in an ocean of Draco, Malfoys, Death Eaters at Hogwarts, and, of course, Harry.

_But Malfoy isn't the first thing on my mind. _She told herself. _Harry is. Of course he is. This is the last year. It's all or nothing from now on. Either Harry kills Voldemort and it's all dandy, _she cursed herself for using the word 'dandy' even if it was only in her thoughts, _Or, Voldemort takes over and the only thing that can stop him, (though he should be called an it, that despicable creature!) Harry, is…_

"Dead," Hermione unknowingly said aloud.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger? You'll have to excuse these old ears of mine," Dumbledore apologized.

"Oh, nothing, sir."

"Well, I expect you came here for a reason. Or simply to be in my presence? Come, now. What did you need?" There was a distinct twinkle in his eyes and they smiled behind his spectacles.

Hermione tried to block everything in her mind except for the information she had just gained. It was not difficult with someone of her determination. She took a deep breath.

"Certain actions… I have reason to believe that Professor Snape has rejoined the other side."

Dumbledore's expression did not appear to change in the slightest, but Hermione could swear that the twinkle that was always in his eye dimmed.

"Well, then," Dumbledore said after a moment. "Would you care to share how you came across this information?"

"Actually, sir," Hermione's hands were twisting her robes into knots. "I'd rather not say."

Dumbledore did not seem at all disappointed. If anything, his eyes sparkled all the more brightly.

"Alas, most mysteries go unsolved, such as how Voldemort keeps returning, or how only one sock seems to get lost in the wash. Nevertheless, I will take your word as Head Girl on this matter. It won't do any harm to keep a closer eye on Severus."

"And Harry," Hermione blurted out.

"Yes, Mister Potter, as he is the victim after all."

Hermione suppressed a shudder at her Headmaster's final words.

"Um…" Hermione started.

"Was there anything else, Miss Granger?"

_Draco!_ Her mind screamed. _Where is he? Is he okay?_

"No, nothing," her mouth said, ignoring her mind and her heart.

Hermione stood and made it to the door before Dumbledore called out to her.

"Miss Granger, you may want to be careful because things are never what they appear to be. When someone pushes you away, it's then they need you the most."

* * *

"How sweet," Lucius said, pacing back and forth in front of his tied up son. "You and the Mudblood. Draco, there better not be anything going on between you and…_that._ She's a _Mudblood;_ you're a pureblood. She's a Gryffindor; you're a Slytherin. You're a Malfoy; she's filth. It would never work and you know it. The fact that you would touch or even talk to a mudblood completely disgraces me and the family name. I can barely even stand to look at you, but I did bring you here for a reason."

"Then why don't you get to the point?" Draco asked in an annoyed tone.

"How dare you speak to me in that tone! Your life is fragile and resting in my palms as we speak. I am your father, and I expect to be treated with respect!"

_You're not my father,_ Draco thought. _A father doesn't kidnap you to force you into the one thing you loathe. A father doesn't push you into the face of danger, laughing when you get hurt. You're anything but my father. You're nothing to me._

There were many things Draco wished he could say to his father, but he knew what his father could do and he remembered what Lucius had done to him in the past; Draco didn't need Lucius to hurt him anymore than he knew Lucius already would. Draco had no choice but to glare at the ground and clench his jaw.

"Now if you'll listen and shut that big mouth of yours, I can tell you my reason for taking you here." Lucius paced in front of his son, hands clasped behind his back. "I was very disappointed that you found in unnecessary to come home for winter vacation. Not only did you break your mother's heart, but you were supposed to be marked. The Dark Lord doesn't like it when things don't go according to plan. Now, hopefully you will have a decent excuse for your unwise decision to stay at Hogwarts for the winter holidays. I'd love to hear it, that is, if you've thought of a good one yet." Lucius smirked and looked at Draco expectantly.

"I stayed there because there was far too much work to be done, and my Head position required me to stay."

Lucius seemed to roll his eyes.

"I suppose that excuse will have to do, but I must say I am quite disappointed in it. This little… kidnapping as you will call it, was meant to help you keep your priorities in order. You don't need to mess up your life more than you already have. The Dark Lord should be your focus, not some stupid mudblood. You would do well to remember that." Draco shot daggers at his father and his hands formed into tight fists. "Just so you forget your distractions, Draco, I'd like to give you a little reminder. Crucio," Lucius whispered.

Draco fell to his knees as the familiar pain flooded through his veins. He bit his lip so not to scream in pain, but a quiet cry escaped his lips seconds before the curse was lifted. He fell to the floor, face down and winced; he could feel bruises already forming on his ribs.

Lucius laughed his cold, cruel laugh and headed for the door.

"Goodbye, Draco. And just to let you know, you will be marked by the end of the night, and dead by morning. And there's nothing anyone can do about it." He laughed once again, and strolled out of the room.

* * *

Hermione walked quickly down the corridor, mind racing. What did Dumbledore mean? What did he know? And what the hell is going on with Malfoy? (She had decided to start calling him Malfoy again because of their disgraceful "blow out.")

Marching back to the Head's room, she had forgotten about her plans to head to the Gryffindor common room to seek out Harry and Ron. Her mind was wrapped around Draco, constricting her, instead of being focused on the casualty, Harry.

Her mind remained lost in worlds of Death Eaters attacking Malfoy despite the vulnerable side of him that Hermione knew struggled to escape. Hermione had a theory that Malfoy was nasty and insufferable because the "good side" of him was constantly fighting to come out. The "good side" was trying to escape to who he really was, without his father's influence.

Hermione reached the Head's room and whispered the password. She strode into the room and plopped herself down onto a couch. Thoughts raced through her mind and she teetered on them, putting two and two together.

_Malfoy is going to be turned into a Death Eater, Harry is going to be murdered, Snape is on the dark side again (Or always was on that side), and I have two rolls of parchment due for Transfiguration next week! This will be no problem. I've helped save Harry loads of times. I'll just keep a close eye on him. And then there's the problem with Malfoy._

_Where is he? Why would he just leave like that? Someone had obviously taken him… his father? How did Lucius get into Hogwarts? I suppose he always finds a way… So I'm the knight in shinning armor? He's the damsel in distress? Well, I guess it's time for this knight to take some action. But first, my essay. The ceremony isn't until tonight and it's only noon. _

She walked into her room, and began to work on her essay. It took her an hour. After double checking it for mistakes, she decided to allow herself to start thinking about Malfoy.

_Okay, where would he be? His father took him to… his house? A secret location in Hogsmeade? A secret location in London?_

_Well, I can't search his house seeing as I don't know where it is… I can't search London seeing as, well, it's much too large to be searched. So, Hogsmeade it is._

Unfortunately, it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend. Hermione felt that this was an emergency (after all, no one deserved to be forced into a Death Eater and then brutally murdered) and so she decided it was time to pay a visit to Harry Potter.

* * *

A thousand miles away Draco Malfoy was being held captive in a dusty unused room in Malfoy Manor. He was bored and slightly uninterested in the night's events. He was otherwise unharmed and becoming a little antsy at the fact that he was ordered to simply sit in the room, doing nothing, like he could move at all. The rope around his body was causing red burn marks and he was not quite certain that someone would be along to save his behind, however, he had a feeling that he would make it quite alright on his own. Draco had been secretly taking wandless magic lessons, unbeknownst to his father, and although he had not quite mastered it, he knew that people had been known to do miraculous things when they have the adrenaline running. Although, if all else failed, Draco knew he was fast and had excellent reflexes, so he could run to a place where he could apparate, ducking curses sent his direction, and apparate into Hogsmeade. It was worth a shot anyway, and this time alone and tied up gave Draco many moments to consider different plans of escape.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and Draco sighed, not in the mood to have another interaction with his father. However, it was not a white blonde man that came through the door, it was a woman.

"Draco, dear. What have you gotten yourself into this time?" His mother said, tray of food in her delicate white hands.

"Well, mother, it wasn't really my choice to be here," Draco replied, sighing.

"If you would have just listened to your father, then nothing would have gone wrong."

"Mother. Why would I listen to him? Why would I allow myself to cower in fear of him? Why would I let him think I was afraid of him? I do not want to become a Death Eater. I never have wanted to become one. You would think my only father would support me in the best decision I've ever made, but no, he forces me to become the one thing I loathe. I don't want to follow the Dark Lord. I want to live my own life and not be forced into something I don't want to be!"

"Honey," Nacissa replied, setting the tray of food down in front of her son and taking her wand out. Draco felt a moment of panic, but she only helped take the rope off of her son and embraced him. "I'm your mother. You know I only want what's best for you. While I don't always approve of your father's actions, they are justified. We will have security with the Dark Lord, you know that. I understand that you don't want to follow the Dark Lord and I love you, which is why I'm going to help you."

"Mum?"

"Come with me. Your father is out at some meeting or another, so I'm going to help you. I hope you know that I don't approve of your relationship with this muggle girl, however… I know what it's like to be in love." Draco's mother said this last part in a dreamy voice that was not like her own at all. Draco had a hinting suspicion that his mother had been involved with a muggle in her years at Hogwarts. Of course, there would never be a way to tell for sure.

"Mum?" Draco repeated. His mother didn't respond once again.

Nacissa had her son's arm in her grasp and was walking through the long corridors of the Malfoy Manor. She was walking at a steady pace, although a fast one for Malfoys didn't waste any time. They walked outside of the house and practically ran to a nearby field.

"Now your father obviously put an anti-apparation spell on our house, but he did not think that you would get outside of the house. Why would he? There's no traitor among His followers." She smiled and looked very pretty doing so. Draco had hardly seen his mother smile in his seventeen years and it was a relief to see it inhabiting her face. "Now, I think we're far enough. Alright, son. Good luck. I'll take the heat from your father, so you shan't need worry about that." Nacissa kissed him on the cheek and embraced him. "Do what you feel is necessary to protect yourself. Never compromise yourself, and for the love of Merlin, don't be a prick to this girl… though I don't approve…" She smiled again and Draco smiled in return. With that, he apparated into Hogsmeade.

* * *

Hermione Granger sprinted to the Gryffindor common room. She shouted the password and scrambled inside the room. Harry and Ron were playing chess by the fireplace in comfortable armchairs. Harry was obviously winning, by the look on Ron's face, however Harry was never smug like Ron was.

"Better luck next time," he told Ron as their game ended and they started a new one.

"Harry!" Hermione made her way over to where they were playing the game she had once called barbaric.

"Hermione. Long time no see," Harry said.

"Finally have time for us, do you?" Ron assumed and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That's not the case, Ronald, and it never will be. I'm simply busy with Head duties which you'd know something about if you actually did your prefect duties like you're supposed to." Ron rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Harry, I was sort of wondering if I could borrow something of yours. I'll return it, I promise, but I just need it for a little while."

"Sure, Hermione. Whatever you need," Harry said, who was always the lighter spirit of the two.

"Can I borrow your…" She lowered her voice. "Invisibility cloak?"

Ron raised his eyebrows, his mouth opening for some smart comeback and Harry simply nodded.

"Ronald, I don't have time for your insults and I don't have moments to spare for your stupid remarks."

"I'll go get it," Harry said quickly, noticing how close an argument was about to arise. He came back before a word was said between Ron and Hermione and handed the cloak into Hermione's waiting hands.

"May I ask what you need it for?" Harry asked. Hermione thought a moment, smiled and then replied.

"I need it to be a knight in shining armor for my damsel in distress." She smiled at the pair and walked out of the room.

"She's bloody mad!" Ron replied, choosing his movement on the board. Harry replied, still staring at the portrait in which Hermione had just disappeared into.

"I think she's bloody brilliant."

**Author's Note**: Yes, I'm a very bad girl… no updates in quite a while… my deepest apologies. I've been busy… my foot is still broken and I still miss my car… (yes, I'm only 16)… but, here it is. I got it as soon as I could, and I actually ended up re-writing the second half of this chapter. I accidentally wrote two versions of this chapter and I put them together, but the one that I liked the best, I never finished. So I wrote the ending of this and I'm quite proud of it. But enough babble. Hope you enjoyed this read, and REVIEW!!! Thanks to those who actually review when they read, and next is TTT. I haven't written it yet, but I'll probably have it out… let's say next week? I'll try my hardest. It's not like I have anything else to do.

Thanks again, and REVIEW!!

xDreamerx


	10. Cleaning Out the Clutter

**Chapter 10—Cleaning Out the Clutter**

The crisp crunching of conspirators on snow was the only sound aside from the delicate thud of snow tumbling towards the earth. Whispers erupted as the traitors busied themselves with the finding of The Boy.

Heavily cloaked figures huddled in a circle, discussing strategies to maintain that this accident would cease to appear in the future.

"I don't see how he could have--"

"—No one in the house except--"

"—Faithful, one of us, never to betray us--"

"—Silence! I hear something."

Stillness exploded in the empty surroundings as a lowly figure hunched behind a tree, holding his breath.

_If I breathe, I die. If I don't breathe, I die._

After a couple of seconds of silence in which the cloaked figures walked closer to The Boy without knowledge of having done so, and in which The Boy thought his lungs to explode from lack of oxygen, one figure spoke.

"Honestly now! Probably an owl, it was! 'I hear something.' What a load of rubbish. Honestly, Crabbe, it be your mind that's going somewhere, not The Boy!"

Awkward laughter tumbled from the mouths of the others, not certain if laughter was allowed. The leader sighed in frustration at the stupidity of those surrounding him and they trudged on.

Seconds later, the cloaked figures had disapparated and The Boy let out his breath, wiping the sweat from his brow.

_They're on to me. They know already._

Sprinting between bushes and trees, The Boy made his waytoward the village that lie only a few miles up the road.

* * *

An invisible creature squeezed between the chatting children, careful not to bump a single one. She was in no hurry, for she realized the upcoming events would not take place until night fell upon the earth.

Footprints, seemingly coming from nothing, formed in the pure white snow leading away from the Hogwarts castle. The figure making them was careful to erase all traces so that she would not be followed. Her friends, having been sworn to secrecy, knew nothing of the courageous actions she was about to take and she'd rather it be that way. If they knew the reason she was rescuing Him was out of love, they would never forgive her.

Miles layered upon each other and soon she reached a town seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The streets were empty, silent, eerie. The shops were deserted, abandoned, neglected. Nothing was as it appeared to be, as it should be. She was scared, but strode on.

Flakes of white innocence cascaded from the sky and landed on the invisible being. She shook the flecks off of the cloak and walked into the village cautiously.

It was as if someone had muted the town. The crunching of the snow underneath Hermione was the only sound and she stepped with vigilance to avoid being discovered.

She didn't know where to start. If they had him, they wouldn't hide him in someplace as open and obvious as Hogsmeade. They would go somewhere no one would find them.

They would go to the Shrieking Shack.

Hermione felt a pair of eyes on her as she hurriedly marched toward the forsaken structure. How could it be possible when she was invisible?

However, _someone_ sensed her being. _Someone_ knew she was there.

She hid behind a tree as if it would help disguise her alreadyundetectable self. Peering around the edge of the evergreen, a flash of light caught Hermione's eye and she cowered, closing her eyes.

Nothing happened. She expected that the Death Eater was waiting for her to move, so he could detect her by the snow lying on the cloak, however, this was not the case. She peeked around the tree again and nothing was to be seen. Passing it off as a trick of the light, she continued on her way.

Hermione felt as if she were being followed. She stopped, the footsteps stopped. She slowed, the footsteps slowed. Someone was on to her. She turned, wand in hand, spell on the tip of her tongue.

"Expelliarmus!"

A dark piece of wood flew into Hermione's hand and she opened her mouth in surprise.

"M-Malfoy?"

"Who's there!"

Hermione pulled the cloak off of herself and pulled him behind a tree.

"G-Granger?" Draco said.

"Yes, it's me. Here I am thinking horrible things are happening to you—I'm picturing torture of all kinds—and here you are, _why the hell aren't you dead?_"

"Nice to see you too," Draco responded, smiling.

"Sorry, it's just… I overheard a conversation… you're supposed to be dead! How in the world did you escape?"

"Granger, did you come all the way out here to rescue me?" He smirked.

"What? No. I was--"

"Sneaking out of the castle."

"—To take a stroll--"

"With an invisibility cloak. Where did you get that, by the way?"

"None of your damn business!" Hermione said, frustration rising in her voice. She took a deep breath to calm herself down.

"You did. You came to save me. How sweet. But why would you want to do something like that?" He asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear her say it out loud.

"I hate you."

"Quite the contrary. Hermione Granger, I believe you fancy me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and didn't smile.

"Don't push your luck. I'm still cross at you."

"Why? I didn't do anything."

"Didn't do anything? You treated me like something you stepped on that you didn't even deem worthy to stay on the bottom of your high priced shoes!"

"Yeah, well you're a stubborn ass! If you would have just listened to me and--"

"What? Believed your bullshit?"

"It was the truth!"

"Yeah, my aunt Sally! Just tell me one thing: do you have feelings for me or not?"

There was a long pause. Draco thought back to the past year at Hogwarts and the time he spent with Hermione. He thought about the way she kissed—gently and innocently. He thought about the deep conversations they got into. He thought about how appealing her body had seemed to him when he first started to notice her—when they became Heads.

Yes, there was something there. Draco enjoyed her company. She was bright and a breath of fresh air from the tedious and monotonous life he lived. She had opinions and he liked to hear them. She had a sharp tongue and they always fought, but he liked to hear what she thought. Maybe she kept Draco in line, or maybe she was slowly destroying him.

He admired Hermione. She was an intelligent human being and although a bookworm, having useless facts stored in her mind, she was interesting and easy to talk to. She was kind and cared for him quite a bit, if he did say so himself.

And she was _pretty_. Her golden eyes sparked with her emotions, and although she was readable, as Draco would never let himself be, she lit up a room and wore her heart on her sleeve, not ashamed of what she felt. Her hair was soft to the touch and her pale features were delicately formed to create pure innocent beauty.

Yes, he rather liked Hermione quite a bit.

But that's not what she meant.

Did he fancy her?

"Look, I, uh--"

But he stopped speaking with the snapping of a nearby twig. In one swift movement, the invisibility cloak was over the both of them, Draco ducking so that it covered his feet. And although they walked quickly back to the Hogwarts castle in silence, thoughts flooded both their heads with what should have, could have been said.

It was only when the duo arrived back into the Heads' common room that they removed the cloak, Hermione tucking it gently into her bag.

On the way up to the castle, Hermione had firmly decided that there was no way in all of London that Draco Malfoy felt something for Hermione Granger. Rather than be humiliated upon hearing these words escape Draco's mouth, Hermione decided that she would forget the question had ever sprung up.

"Look, uh, H-Hermione," Draco started, rubbing his neck. He sat down on the green couch and rubbed his head, still throbbing from the curses used on him. "About what you asked me back there--"

"—Are you okay?" Hermione asked him, hoping to distract him from the question that she dreaded the answer.

"Wh-What?"

"Are you okay? I know the Death Eaters must have tortured you at least a little."

"I'm fine," he replied.

"W-what happened?"

Draco gave a detailed account of what had happened, from meeting his father in his room, to his mother helping him escape. He would have normally never told a soul what had happened—his business was his business, but it was Hermione and she made it so easy to give in to what she wanted.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said, tears in her eyes from his story.

"No," he replied, taking her hands in his. "_I'm_ sorry. I was an arrogant ass and I should have never--"

"Please don't," Hermione whispered, taking her hands from his and looking away, tears running down her cheeks. She furiously wiped her wet cheeks and pulled her work into her lap.

Draco sighed and looked at the ceiling.

There was just no winning with her. True, she was stubborn and set in her ways, but so was he. She wasn't easily forgiving and Draco liked that about her, although it annoyed him to great lengths how hard it was to keep up with her and how much he had to work to be worthy of her.

However, Hermione just refused to believe that he told her the truth for once, which was not difficult to understand, but frustrating all the same. He was annoyed that she wouldn't accept his apology, but he understood why she couldn't just forgive him. He wouldn't even forgive himself! He treated her horribly.

On the other hand, he had never given her reason to believe that he would lie to her. True, he hadn't been completely straight with her from the beginning, but he hadn't lied, just denied feelings. Who would want to admit they had feelings for their arch enemy?

And who's to say Hermione didn't deny her feelings for him? Again, who would want to fall for their arch enemy? She must have denied these feelings or at least masked them and didn't that make her just as guilty as he was? Didn't that put them in the same exact situation?

No, because they were different. They were not equals. She was Head Girl, bookworm, good girl Hermione Granger, and he was Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater, slimy Slytherin. Just because of their outer appearance, people looked at them differently and treated them differently, which led Draco to think about what would have happened if Harry Potter had taken his hand that fateful day they met.

It was Christmas Eve and Draco wanted to tell Hermione how he felt about her. It was Christmas Eve and Lucius's present to Draco was matching bruises on his stomach.

Hermione fled the room and closed the door behind her.

* * *

Sun beams danced their way across a sleeping figure who was oblivious to anything but the nightmarish allusion that her body lured her in from the moment her imperfect golden hair had touched the heavenly soft pillow. Alluring orbs were revealed in one quick motion and her unmanicured hands swept up to rub the sleepiness out of them.

Not only was it dreadfully early, but her nightmare made its rounds through her mind, as if mocking her actions. She would have liked nothing better than to fall asleep, but with the promise of another horrific dream hanging in the air, she thought it better to rise with the sun and get some much delayed work done.

Hermione Granger had made a mistake and she was admitting it (if only in her head). She had let something be more important than her Head business, than her schoolwork. She was ashamed of herself because she hadn't meant to get so wrapped up in boys, of all things, and for crying out loud, she just wished everything wasn't so bloody difficult.

No pain, no gain. No sacrifice, no gain. No hardships, no life.

In other words, life's a bitch and then you die.

But she mustn't think such things. She was a fighter, damn it, and she never gave up. Hermione Granger was stubborn and didn't do something unless she intended to finish it the proper way.

_Is that true in all aspects of your life?_

She didn't want to know the answer.

Hermione Granger was demolished. It was a fact now. Isn't it tragic?

But one mustn't dwell on such things. Yes, she was a failure in not only love, but responsibility. Yes, she would have very much liked to cry that moment, but she didn't. If she was going to get her life back in order (which she decided she wanted) then she was going to have to weed out the clutter and unnecessary things that were blocking the way to her reaching the top. She had to get rid of what was holding her back.

_You know who to start with._

Hermione smacked herself in the head for her thoughts having a mind of their own. She desperately wanted to keep a hold of the so called "clutter" in her life, but being the sensible person she was, she resolved to refuse the misleading thoughts that circled in her head, reject the feeling in her gut, and go against her heart telling her that he was what she needed. Hermione longed to follow her heart; she longed life to be how it was in muggle movies and just wanted to be swept off her feet. It was never going to happen. She had to constantly remind herself that this was real life and things such as nice _and_ good-looking guys didn't exist.

It was time to face the facts—real life sucked.

* * *

Sometimes you wake up and feel flat out fucked, and you would do anything to get the good feeling back.

This was one of these days.

Draco Malfoy groaned as he awoke, cursing the fact that he was alive, for what was there to live for now that he had loved (_was _it love?) and lost.

He sat straight up at this thought and smacked himself in the head.

What the hell was his problem? He was Draco-fucking-Malfoy! He _owned_ this school and everyone in it. Or at least he should have. He had gotten along simply wonderful when he was using girls for cheap sex, and he would do just fine again.

_But can you really go back to how you were? Can you really use people, knowing what it means to be loved, knowing what it means to open up to someone and feel something real?_

Of course he must try. Of course things must go back to how they used to be.

A flash of green lit up his mind.

No. Not like before. It will never be like before.

Then, a familiar face flashed before his mind.

Yes, he shall pursue the girl from the balls. He hadn't given her much thought since the last ball, which felt like ages ago. There must have been another coming up soon.

As Draco allowed his mind to linger around the mysterious girl from the ball, another face clouded his mind and he thought it rather odd that he would think of her at a moment like this.

Yes, he had royally fucked things up with Hermione, but deep down, for some unexplainable reason, he couldn't help feeling that she was the one he wanted, not anyone else. She knew the exact way to press his buttons and make him want to strangle her in anger, but when he thought about how her smile made his weak in the knees or how softly she kissed, he knew that he wanted her.

_But you've always only wanted the things you couldn't have. This is the same thing. You only want her because you know she won't have you._

Was it true? Draco paced around his room, contemplating recent events and the thoughts that swirled into his head.

Was it true?

And even if it wasn't, why should Draco Malfoy, of all people have to work so hard for something he wanted? Everything in his life had been handed to him on a silver platter; why should now be any different? Why should he have to work hard for what he wanted?

_Because it's the only thing that makes it worth having._

Her words echoed in his mind.

**Author's Note: **I know, I know, it's been forever. I'm just working a lot at my job and haven't had any time to write. I know, no excuses. I'm dreadfully sorry. What matters now is that I've finally updated. This chapter is short, but I like it a lot and I think it's pretty good. Anyway, next I'm working on Feed on Fear and Two Twisted Teens, so at least FOF will be up next week, I promise. I have a 4 day weekend this weekend so I'm typing up the next chapter for FOF, and I just got to give it to my favorite person in the world (Besides reviewers, of course) to edit and then I'll post it, I promise. It won't take me this long again. Punishes self

Anyway, I think thank you's are in order!

Thanks a million to:

**ThisScarlettePhoenix--**Thanks! I don't know if I'd call my work amazing, but it gets me by. Thanks for reviewing and keep reading!

**Dangerous Love--**Thanks, hope I haven't disappointed you yet!

**Zarroc--**Thanks. Sorry about the long update, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

**AmericanIdiot252--**(By the way, I'm a fan of Green day, but only their old stuff. I don't like any of their new stuff. I think it stinks on ice.I'm more of a punk rock girl, myself. XD) Thanks, sorry for the long update!

**perzndva--**You know, I had this story all planned out at the beginning and now I feel like I've forgotten all about the things I planned to write. I'm just winging it now. But, I can gurantee another ball is coming soon... Thanks for reviewing!

**RoonilWazlib09--**Somehow my mind never really entertained the thought of Ron and Hermione. I'm basically in love with my Draco, and everyone loves Hermione, so I just thought they would be good. I've read a lot of Hr/D stories too that I really like. Also, it's so unlikely for them to be together, so I like the idea of them. Anyway, I'm glad you like it and hope I haven't let you down in any of my chapters. Thanks for reviewing and keep reading!

Anyway, thanks to all for reading and review! Let me know what you think!

xDreamerx


	11. What's Normal, Anyway?

**Chapter 11—What's Normal Anyway?**

Whispering the password to gain entrance to the Heads' room, Hermione felt anticipation bubbling in her stomach. She wanted, no, _needed_, to tell someone about what had happened with Malfoy. She had let this go on long enough and she was afraid it would burst out of her if she did not speak now.

Harry would try to understand, but deep down he would think she was a traitor, Hermione knew. Malfoy was their enemy for so long, and now for her to be smitten with him absolutely defied everything they stood for. Harry would be kind and eventually learn to live with it, but Ron wouldn't. Ron would ex-communicate her and disconnect her from his life. She would be labeled a traitor and would never be seen in the good graces of Ronald Weasley again. Forget being friends, forget ever knowing each other. If she told Ron, it would all be over and Harry would have no choice but to take Ron's side.

And could she really blame them? Hermione had snuck around behind their backs and she had technically lied to them. And she was fraternizing with the enemy! No, that would not go over well at all.

So, there was only one obvious choice. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it before: Ginny Weasley.

So Hermione decided to spill her guts and invite Ginny to help her clean up the mess.

She stepped into her room silently, as if the room were sleeping and she didn't want to wake it. Ginny stepped in loudly behind her and Hermione winced at every sound Ginny made. She flicked on the lights and collapsed on her bed, sighing when her head hit the pillow.

Ginny sat on the chair that was kind of like Hermione—comfortable, yet sensible. She stared expectantly at her friend and waited for Hermione to speak.

"I don't really know how to say it, so I'll just be blunt. Something happened between Malfoy and I. We were civil to each other. No, it was more than that. I acted like… it was almost as if… we liked spending time together. We _kissed_. Call me crazy, but I liked it. I liked _him_. And he hurt me, just like I knew he would. That's all there is to it, anyway. I just must have been temporarily insane to have thought I felt something for him. I don't know what was wrong with me, but it's over now. I thought I liked him, but I deny feeling anything for him. It was just stupid and unreal and I don't care about him. I hate Malfoy, even more than I used to. I _hate_ him."

Everything in Hermione's voice screamed that she was lying to herself. Every fiber of her being told her she was wrong.

There was a blank stare upon Ginny's face as she stared at her best friend in disbelief. She opened and closed her mouth several times before clearing her throat and beginning to speak.

"So, it's over?" She asked quietly, not quite sure what to say.

"It, whatever 'it' was, is over."

"Things are back to normal?"

"What's normal, anyway?" Hermione's question echoed in her room, unanswered.

* * *

Draco heard whispering outside him door and he opened it slightly. Hermione and that Weasley girl were standing outside Hermione's door, their backs to Draco. Once the two girls disappeared inside Hermione's room, Draco put his ear to the door, knowing Hermione wouldn't think to put a silencing charm on her room.

Hermione's voice was muffled and Draco couldn't hear most of what she was saying, but it was better than nothing.

"I don't really know how to say… something happened between… we… each other. No, it was more than that. I… liked… together… He hurt me… I knew he would. That's all… I must have been… I felt… him… I don't know… I liked… feeling… him. It was… unreal… I… him!"

Malfoy backed away from the door as if it were on fire. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared at it, disbelievingly.

_So, Granger did something with someone else? What a slut! She's worse than Pansy and I didn't even think that was possible. She 'felt' him? It was 'unreal'? Well, good! This is just more encouragement for me to become the old Draco Malfoy again. She 'liked feeling him'? I bet it was the stupid Potter. Or Weasley! He always had a thing for her! That's just fine. If that's the way she wants it to be, that's the way it'll be. I'll be the old me—bringing girls in here like nobody's business. If she wants to play games, I'm better at them!_

Draco walked back to his door, slamming it, causing Hermione to discover that he had been listening the entire time.

* * *

The last days of winter vacation came and went without much event. Hermione lounged around the Gryffindor common room, spending more time with Harry and Ron. In fact, the Head Girl was scarcely seen out of the duo's company.

A trip to Hogsmeade followed New Year's Day and Hermione went with Harry and Ron, as Ginny, who was quickly becoming her best friend, was wrapped in a Charms essay.

"Hermione, what's wrong? You seem really… out of it. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, Harry," Hermione answered, not exactly lying, but not telling the whole truth either. "I'm just really tired. I was up all night working on my Arithmancy essay."

"Are you sure? Because lately it seems like something more than usual is bothering you."

_Am I being that obvious?_ Hermione asked herself. _I need to be careful. Harry and Ron _can't _know about Malfoy. They would never speak to me again. They would disconnect me from their lives. I would have nothing. It would mean my untimely death, if they knew._

"Actually," Hermione replied, thinking quickly. "My Head Girl duties have been strenuous and it's wearing me out."

"Are you sure that's it?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Hermione replied. "That's it."

_And now I'm a liar, on top of everything else. I fraternize with the enemy and lie to my best friends. Who am I? Because I don't recognize this person wearing my clothes. I don't recognize this person living my life the wrong way. _

* * *

Stiffness hung in the air and Hermione breathed it in, but couldn't seem to breathe it back out. She breathed in. Couldn't breathe it out. The sound of the clock ticking each second was slowly driving her insane.

Tick, tock.

Her eyes surveyed the paper in front of her, not really taking in what it said. Her mind registered nothing but the empty stillness combined with the earth-shattering tick of the second hand, which grew louder each second.

Tick.

The page in front of Hermione grew blurry. A drop of water hit it and exploded. She watched it seep into the parchment, staining it with a slightly darker color.

Tock.

Hermione watched the parchment obtain water. She watched it absorb the droplets. She watched it grow to be soaking wet.

Tick, tock.

Hermione walked to the bathroom. She didn't notice her parchment rip in her tight grip and fall lifelessly to the ground.

Hermione glanced at the mirror and her reflection didn't glance back. Her reflection couldn't bring itself to meet her eyes.

"Look at yourself," it said. "You're pathetic."

Hermione heard the portrait open and close. She wiped her cheeks dry and stepped out of the bathroom to see who had come in. She heard giggling.

It was Malfoy. He was with some Slytherin Hermione didn't know. Her presence startled him and he didn't meet her eyes, his arm slung around the Slytherin's waist.

Hermione surveyed the two. Malfoy shifted uncomfortably under her condemning gaze. The girl rolled her eyes. Hermione turned her gaze on to Malfoy's face. It was masked, as usual. Hermione took a deep breath and decided that she was done playing Draco's stupid game. _She'd _be the adult. _She'd _be the bigger person because Draco never would.

"M-Malfoy? Can I speak to you a minute?" Hermione asked, shooting the other girl a dirty look. Okay, so one dirty look didn't mean she wasn't an adult. She just couldn't help it!

"Uh, sure. Wait for me in my room," he ordered the Slytherin girl. She smiled, pecked his cheek, and gave Hermione a glare.

"What the hell are you doing?" Hermione whispered as soon as the other girl shut Draco's door.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what the hell do you think you're doing bringing _that_ into here? It's… It's disgusting!"

"I can do whatever the hell I want! It's _my _life. Besides… you didn't want me anyway, remember?"

"No, but I remember you being a prat! How can you act like everything's my fault?" Hermione asked quietly.

"How can you act like everything's mine?" Draco whispered. "Look, what if I got rid of her? Would you…"

"Would I what? Be able to go back to work? Be able to sleep?"

"No. Spend time with me."

There was a long pause in which Hermione searched Draco's unmasked eyes, finding sincerity, but also the old Draco who'd gladly hurt her in any and every opportunity.

"_Why_?" Hermione said, barely audible.

"Why what?"

"Why _me_? You could get anyone. Why do you waste your time on someone like me?"

"I don't know," Draco responded after a moment. He was staring at the floor.

Hermione sighed and turned to walk away, but Draco caught her arm. He whispered to her.

"You want me; we both know that. Stop lying to yourself. I see it in your eyes—you're _jealous_. You want me, but you don't want to forgive me. You won't let yourself because you keep telling yourself that I'll only hurt you. Why don't you stop thinking for once? Why won't you just feel?" With that, Draco walked past Hermione to his bedroom. Hermione relaxed when she heard his door click shut. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

_He knows,_ she thought. _He knows what I'm thinking. He knows what I know. How does he read me so easily? Hoe does he figure me out so simply? I _won't _give in. I can't. He'll hurt me; we both know that. Everyone knows that. I won't give in. I refuse._

"I won't be weak," Hermione whispered to the empty room. She didn't even believe her own words.

Stiffness settled and uncertainty floated back in to the air. And Hermione was left to wonder if the ticking of the second hand _had _finally driven her insane.

Tick, tock.

* * *

As gradually as the white frost had come, it began to disappear. By the middle of January, it was nearly half gone. Cold behavior seemed to vanish along with the chilly weather and things settled down, back to the way they should be. Life-long enemies continued to be enemies, friends continued to be close, and mannerisms continued to be as it had always been at Hogwarts—predictable.

The Hogwarts Magazine was rapidly finished each week by one, but never both, of the Heads. Draco and Hermione seemed to snatch the articles for the magazine and finish the edition before the other had a chance to glance at it. It would seem as though the Heads did this to prove that they were better than the other. They really didn't need to prove anything.

Draco had almost slid back into his old self, but there was no way he could ever completely go back to who he had once been. Draco continued to bring an assortment of girls into his bedroom, but he never let Hermione see who he brought into his territory. He didn't want her to know that side of him—the dirty side.

Hermione continued to absorb her studies, knowing that it would make her forget the world around her. She spent numerous amounts of time in her bedroom, practically no time sleeping, and never any time in the Head's common room. Hermione was always in the company of Harry, Ron, or Ginny and the only time she had torn herself away from her studies was to make an appearance at the Quidditch games.

Harry was gradually getting closer to Professor Braccola and he spent a fair amount of time helping the professor. Hermione grew apprehensive of the relationship, but she knew that Harry can take care of himself. He had defeated Voldemort seven times, hadn't he? Hermione just felt that Voldemort would fulfill the prophecy while Harry was still in school and that time was nearing its end.

Currently, Hermione needed something to do. She had already finished all of her homework and needed something else to work on—thus, the search for the magazine articles began.

First, Hermione seeked out the article writers to find if they had turned them in or not. Much to Hermione's dismay, each person she found had already turned them in. Hermione retreated back to the Heads' common room, because Draco wouldn't be there. He was playing a Quidditch game, of which Hermione weaseled her way out of to cleverly avoid Draco. She didn't even want to be anywhere near him.

Hermione paced around the common room, thinking of places the articles could possibly be. After thoroughly turning the common room upside down, Hermione sat on a couch and that was when it hit her, like running flat into a brick wall.

It was then that Hermione recalled the game she and Draco had been playing recently. Draco had the magazine articles.

Hermione stood up, enraged that Draco would steal them when he didn't even have the time to do them! He was playing Quidditch; he had more important things to do.

Hermione stomped to the door of his bedroom, turned the knob and then realized what she was doing. She backed away from the door as if she had been burned.

This was enemy territory. Hermione knew she was about to cross rival lines. Did she really want to do that? Did she really want to cross into her nemesis's territory? Who knows what she'd find?

Taking a deep breath and mustering her courage, Hermione prepared herself for what was behind that door. There could be torture weapons or fluffy bunny slippers—Draco Malfoy was a twisted person.

Hermione closed her eyes, taking another deep breath, and she turned the door knob and stepped inside the room. Only after hearing the door click behind her did Hermione open her eyes and look in wonder upon her surroundings.

The walls were a deep silver, but not metallically so. The bedspread upon Draco's enormous bed was black with silver and green pillows on top of it. There was a wardrobe, filled with an assortment of dark colored robes, and Hermione gasped aloud at a few unexpected items in her enemy's room.

Atop the beautiful comforter of Draco's bed lay a sketchbook and an assortment of drawing pencils. Hermione stared at them a moment before carefully sitting on Draco's bed and opening the book.

Draco was an excellent artist, by all means. There were drawings of people, sketching of situations he'd been in, things he'd done with certain people… he drew about everything and his drawings were so real. He knew how to capture the emotion in people's eyes, the reflection of how he saw others, and the feeling in each situation. Hermione was stunned and amazed at this secret talent of Draco's. He never seemed one for muggle items, but then again, there were many things about Draco that were a mystery.

Hermione placed the sketchbook where she found it, ran her fingers over the perfectly sharpened pencils, and took in his room once again.

Hermione did a double take when something in the corner of the room caught her eye. It was another muggle item that Hermione would have never expected from Draco, especially considering who his father was.

Hermione had long since fallen in love with the sound of an acoustic guitar and she ran her careful fingers across the perfectly polished wood of Draco's instrument. She played a cord—all the strings were in tune. She smiled at how wrong the guitar looked in Draco's room.

Snapping back to reality, Hermione noticed the end table beside Draco's bed with its drawer nearly open. She walked to it immediately, yanking it open loudly, and wanting nothing more than to find her articles and get the bloody hell out of Draco's room. She felt odd being there. Not unnatural, just odd.

As Hermione sifted through the junk in the drawer, she felt what seemed to be something hard and thick.

_This must be the binder where the articles are kept!_ Hermione thought, as she struggled to pull useless papers off the top of the binder. _How rude of Malfoy to shove it under all this junk like that! If he's going to—_

But Hermione's thoughts ended there because the item had finally surfaced and it was by no means what she had been looking for.

**Author's Note-- **Yes, I know. I've been very naughty. No presents for me this year! But, it IS here, finally, I know, but here nonetheless, so yay? Yay. Um, hope you liked it... left you a little cliffy!

I am by no means making promises to when the next chapter for FOF, but it will be soon. I'm hoping to type it up this weekend, and give it to my editor on Mon, and then post middle of week... but no promises! I guess I'm not very good at keeping them, huh? So, this is all in theory... hopefully will become a reality, but no promises!

So, THANKS:

MilkMustache--hopefully I'm not letting you down. I try to get them in as soon as I can! Thanks for reading!

Dangerous Love--I know it seems like I've strayed from the balls, but they're coming up sooner than you think! Bear with me! Thanks!

ThisScarlettePhoenix--Thanks so much! I don't know how good I am, but I try my best and get a lot of help from my editors! Thanks again! Keep reviewing, loyal reviewer!

Zarroc--Sorry about the long wait... just been so busy! No excuses, I know... but...?? XD Thanks for being a loyal reviewer and keep R&R!

ClumsyElf--Thanks! Sorry about the wait for this chapter... Hope you enjoyed it as much as the others! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

AmericanIdiot252--Another loyal reviewer! Thanks so much! I really hope you liked this chapter and please keep reading and reviewing!

As always, thank you for reading, and REVIEW!!

FOF is next. Thanks!

xDreamerx


	12. Crossing Enemy Lines

**Chapter 12—Crossing Enemy Lines**

Draco Malfoy was feeling down. He was feeling lower than low, unwanted, and very alone. Although he would never admit it aloud, he was lonely—so he began to drink. He had just finished a Quidditch match—Slytherin had lost, so he decided to drown his sorrows in a bottle of Firewhiskey. One thing led to another, and Draco found himself quite suddenly in the grips of a pretty little Slytherin he didn't know, very much intoxicated.

He hadn't meant to get drunk, but… he just began to think about the current situation with the most unlikely person he would ever admit to having a 'situation' with—Hermione Granger. She hated him; she loathed the very thought of him; he repulsed her, and for some reason, it was more than he could bear. For some reason, and for the first time in his life, he _cared_.

Did he love her?

Well, as far as Draco was concerned, love was a word that got thrown around far too often. To the bitter Slytherin, love was a strong word, and he wasn't even sure he exactly knew what it meant.

He had never loved anyone before. There was no possible way he could ever feel anything but hatred for his father, forcing him into the one thing Draco absolutely loathed. And his mother… well, he didn't _hate_ her, per se. However, he wasn't exactly sure he loved her either. How could he? She had taken his father's side—the dark side, of which Draco wanted no part of. She had abandoned Draco in his time of need—when all others had been against him. How could he even like someone who had promised she loved him, and then pushed him into the deathly grips of danger? However, he did feel some compassion for the woman. How could he not? She had given birth to him. She was his own flesh and blood. Then again, so was his demonic father, but, well, that was just a different story entirely.

Draco felt himself sobering up and was at the level of intoxication when one blurts out information certain people had no business knowing in the first place. He decided to go have a word with the pretty little Head girl.

Slinging an arm around the blonde Slytherin, Draco pushed himself up from off of the floor, and proceeded to stumble with the drunken girl to the Heads' room.

* * *

Hermione pulled it out with shaky hands. She closed the drawer, sat on the bed, and stared at the object in her hands.

It was a simple black leather-bound book with silver letters played across the front of it.

"Draco U. Malfoy," Hermione whispered aloud. She ran her fingers over the words before slipping her hand between the front cover and the silver-tinted pages. She slowly flipped open the book.

SLAM!

Hermione heard the portrait door close and she sat up straight, her eyes wide as the sound of Draco's long strides neared his door. Hermione looked around in panic for somewhere to hide and she quickly shoved herself into Draco's wardrobe as the doorknob turned.

Draco strode into his room, shutting and locking the door behind him. He was soaked in mud and water from the melted snow and his mood made it obvious that Slytherin had lost the match.

The wardrobe Hermione hid in was opened a crack and Hermione watched him with interest. She clutched Draco's book close to her chest, hoping Draco wouldn't notice its absence. She had no time to stash it in its proper place.

Draco peeled off his robes and flung them on the floor. Hermione's eyes widened. She had no clue that Draco refused to change in the Quidditch locker room with the rest of the team because he saw himself as far too regal for the school facilities. He'd rather use his personal space. And he didn't want the other team mates to ogle his chiseled body. He didn't know what kind of homosexuals were on his team and was pretty sure he could have turned some of his teammates gay.

As Draco reached for his boxers, Hermione shut her eyes tightly and only opened them when she heard Draco leave the room. She breathed a sigh of relief, stepped out of the wardrobe and checked around Draco's room to make sure everything was the way is was supposed to be.

The grin on Hermione's face melted off as she heard footsteps outside Draco's door. She immediately flattened herself against the floor and rolled under Draco's bed.

Hermione watched the feet walk to the wardrobe, grab out a robe, and then leave the room, shutting the door.

Hermione waited a longer period of time before moving. She rolled out from under his bed, but rolled over something soft and squishy. She pulled it from under Draco's bed and almost laughed out loud when she discovered what it was.

In Hermione's grasp was a fluffy pink bunny slipper.

Draco truly _was_ a twisted person.

Hermione placed it back where she found it and ran to Draco's door, checking to make sure the coast was clear, before running across the hall to her room, closing the door, and collapsing on her bed, breathing heavily at the incredible risk she couldn't believe she just took.

What a morning!

* * *

The following morning, Hermione woke early and showered, pulling her wet locks into a high ponytail. She slipped on her school robes and as she was about step down into the Great Hall for some much-needed sustenance, something hard clunked in Hermione's pocket. She reached in and pulled it out.

In Hermione's grasp was a simple black leather-bound book with silver letters played across the front of it.

Draco U. Malfoy.

Hermione stared at the book in her hands for a significant amount of time. She sat on her bed, but her eyes never wavered from the book.

To read or not to read…

_I want to,_ Hermione thought. _I'd give anything to know what goes on in the mind of the mysterious Draco Malfoy. I'd die to know what he thinks about all this. I'd give anything to know what the baffling, popular Head Boy thinks. I'd kill to get inside his head…_

_But that's invasion of privacy,_ her mind argued. _You _can't _do that. These are Malfoy's private thoughts meant for himself only. It would be unforgivable if I read it. It's his personal and secret thoughts and it's his personal possession. I can't just invade his privacy like that…_

_Why not?_ Her mind challenged. _He certainly hasn't shown _me_ any respect, so why should I give him respect? Besides… how is he going to find out? I'll return it before he notices it's gone._

_But, still… it's an _invasion of privacy_…_

Hermione continued to stare at the book in her hands.

To read or not to read…

To cross or not to cross enemy lines…

Hands shaking, Hermione slipped her fingers between the cover and first tinted silver page, and she opened the book. Mind racing, she slowly read the quick handwriting.

_To our son—_

_Fill this with your personal thoughts and ambitions. Remember always to be strong. Never let anyone into your mind.._

_Sincerely, Mother and Father_

Hermione paused there. Draco's parents were so formal and distant. Hermione almost felt sorry for him. At least now she knew why he was the way he was.

Trembling with nervousness and the possibility of getting caught red-handed, Hermione flipped the page and saw Draco's familiar handwriting. It looked as it had always looked—eloquent, neat, and perfect—too polished for a boy's handwriting. Draco always took his time writing, though, and Hermione knew this. She thought that handwriting told a lot about the person who wrote it and Draco's writing certainly did just that.

Blocking her fear of Draco discovering this book in her possession, Hermione began at the first entry, written the first day of school.

* * *

It was gone! The bloody book was missing!

He hadn't even wanted the blasted thing in the first place.

But… now that he'd actually used it and confided in an inanimate object, he couldn't lose it. He was the real Draco Malfoy in his writings and was honest for one of the first times. He told it his true feelings about everyone and everything and _no one_ could know those thoughts.

He stopped dead in his tracks while ransacking his belongings for the stupid book.

If it was truly missing, that meant someone had been in his bedroom. That meant someone knew the password to the Heads' room.

That meant someone was cruel and heartless.

Well, besides himself, at any rate.

He almost couldn't breathe. Someone had been in his room. He prided himself on being a secretive person and maintaining his privacy.

Someone knew the password. Someone knew a secret.

Unless…

Draco yanked open his door and stormed across the hall, banging on the door opposite his.

"One second!" Came the muffled reply. Draco heard rustling and instantly knew what was going on.

"Open the damn door, _now_!" He yelled. Not a second later, a white-faced Hermione appeared.

"Can I help you?" She asked quietly, having not spoken to him in quite some time.

"Don't try to be cute! Where is it?!"

If possible, Hermione paled even more than she already had.

"'It?' I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about," she answered confidently. Her eyes never wavered from Draco's, since it was him that taught her how to be such an excellent liar.

"I'm not playing games! If you don't hand it over, I'll… I'll—"

"You'll what? Tell Dumbledore that _you_ lost one of _your_ belongings and blame it on me? He won't believe you. We're sworn enemies, remember, _Malfoy_?"

Hermione could see the wheels of thought spinning in Draco's mind. She smiled, taking pride in her quick-wittedness. She was more than happy to act this way towards Draco because it had been him that taught her to be nasty. It was Draco who taught Hermione to be so cold.

Suddenly, Draco grinned maliciously and there was an evil glint in his cold silver eyes.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?"

"You don't have anything on me," Hermione said smiling. "I didn't _do_ anything and there's no way you can prove I did."

"I mean it, Granger. I _know_ you have it, and I _know_ you know what I'm talking about. If you lay even one finger on it… If you read one word, I swear on my life that you'll be sorry, or so help me God."

"Oh, please. You know, that's a pretty empty threat. I'd work on it if I were you. It's really too bad. You're starting to lose your edge. You're starting to become predictable. You're no longer mysterious. What a shame," with that, Hermione smirked widely and closed her door.

Draco stood outside Hermione's room for a good length of time wondering when it had happened that he and Hermione had crossed into enemy territory.

Draco wondered when it had happened that she became him and he became her.

* * *

The start of February came suddenly, without expectation. Hermione hadn't given a thought to the book in the top drawer of her nightstand and she hadn't read more than the first page of it. She wasn't scared of what Draco said he'd do to her if she read it. Hermione had just been busy as of late and hadn't the time to look into Draco's book. Yeah, that was it… Wasn't it?

Draco eyed Hermione carefully and continued to turn his room upside down looking for his secret book. He was almost sure Hermione had it, but just in case she didn't… Well, it was appropriate to look for it anyway.

As Hermione was getting ready for bed early the first Friday of February (there was a Slytherin-Gryffindor match the following morning and she was not going to miss it!) she noticed the top drawer of her nightstand wasn't closing properly. She slipped out of bed and pressed it closed, but it wouldn't budge from its half-open state.

Hermione bit her lip.

She hated any form of disorder.

Hermione pulled on the drawer, but it wouldn't move. Stationing her feet, Hermione yanked open the drawer, the force of it throwing her back on the floor, drawer lying on top of her.

"Hmpf," Hermione muttered, feeling utterly ridiculous and glad that she was alone.

Standing and brushing her robes off from having fallen on the floor, Hermione began to neatly refill her drawer when she noticed something had escaped under her bed. Lying on her stomach, Hermione reached under her bed and pulled out a black, leather-bound book that looked strangely familiar.

Hermione swore her heart stopped.

She hadn't given Him or his book a single thought.

Placing her drawer carelessly back into her nightstand, Hermione sat on her bed, book in her hands, her eyes never wavering from it.

Quickly, Hermione unconsciously glanced at her door, making sure it was closed and locked.

Opening the perfect leather, the beautiful silver pages filled Hermione's vision again and she re-read Draco's parents' note on the first page.

With a shaky hand, Hermione flipped the page and recognized Draco's perfectly small handwriting.

The date read: September 1st—7th year.

Suddenly, the writing became liquid and slipped off the page and onto Hermione skin. It burned with the heat of a thousand fires and Hermione screamed out loud in pain.

At once, the book grew fangs and began to snap at Hermione's hands. The book bit Hermione and her arm was suddenly missing. It bit her again and her other arm was gone. Next came her legs and finally, Hermione was trapped inside the book with Draco's unsafe thoughts.

"That's what you get!" Rang Draco's voice in Hermione's ears. "You didn't think you'd get away with it, did you?"

Hermione screamed and woke in a cold sweat. She felt her arms and legs—they were all still there. She took a few deep breaths before laughing out loud at herself for believing her dream was real.

Hermione stepped out of her room quietly; she desired a cup of water to calm her down.

In the common room was a pitcher of water that re-filled itself and always stayed cold and fresh. Hermione conjured a glass and poured herself some.

Summoning a washcloth from the bathroom, Hermione dipped it in the water and lay on a couch, slipping the wet washcloth on her forehead.

Hermione's dream was childish, really. Getting eaten by a book wasn't what made her wake in a cold sweat.

_Draco_ was the cause of her nightmare.

Though she'd never admit it, Draco terrified Hermione. She had no idea that she equally terrified Draco.

Hermione heard Draco's door open and he entered her empty room. Then he walked into the common room, his footsteps obviously giving away his half-awake state.

"You okay?" Draco managed to get out. He rubbed his eyes. "Heard you scream."

"It was just a bad dream," Hermione replied. "You go back to sleep."

"You sure?"

Hermione had no idea how to explain or even how to understand Draco. He would yell at her one minute, and be concerned for her well-being the next. She didn't know if they were enemies or if they were something else. Hermione hated the uncertainty she found in Draco, but at the same time, when he wasn't looking, he was really sweet. Really, he was nice and caring.

That side of Draco was what scared Hermione to death. That side of Draco was what made Hermione wake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

"Of course I'm sure. You've got a Quidditch match tomorrow. You need your rest."

Draco nodded and stumbled clumsily back into his room. Hermione smiled. She stared into the fire for a while before subconsciously going into her room to the nightstand, yanking it open, taking Draco's book out and going back into the common room. She sat on the couch and opened the book to Draco's first entry.

Hermione blinked.

_What am I doing?_

Hermione debated reading it or not. After a few moments, the side that was dying to get inside Draco's mind won and Hermione began to read. She read slowly and carefully so that she wouldn't miss a single thing. It was rather odd to read these words because it was almost as if she were talking to Draco, only without the snide remarks, sneers, and talking back.

_September 1__st__—7__th__ year_

_I suppose it is rather childish and downright idiotic for I, Draco U. Malfoy, to be keeping a journal. Father gave this to me, claiming that this was a complicated time in my life and that I should document it. It sounded more like a request._

_Not that I listen to anyone. I can take care of myself and I don't need help from anyone. I'm a Malfoy! That should be self-explanatory._

_Anyway, back to the point. Father requested me to do this simple task, and rather than be hit with another spell as punishment, I might as well do it. Besides, it's a stupid book. Who's going to read it other than me?_

Hermione smiled at the odd irony. She glanced around the cold and lonely common room and built a fire; this somehow cured her feeling of isolation.

_I suppose a journal is to document your knowledge, or at least that's what it should be for. All I know is that I'm gaining on seventeen years and I have never really lived._

_Sure, I've gone to rich luxurious parties, I've met the Queen of England, I've gone through a girl a week, and I've dabbled in magic. However, I've never _lived_. I've never seen anything worthwhile, unless you count half the girls at Hogwarts naked. I've never seen or done anything worth mentioning. I've never watched a sunset with my one true love, holding each other as if we're the only ones in the world._

"Wouldn't you know it?" Hermione said out loud. "Malfoy is a hopeless romantic. Who knew?"

_Besides,_ the journal went on. _What's being alive if you're not really living?_

_As for this journal… I guess I've decided that it's not half bad. I mean, what trouble can this little book cause anyway?_

_I suppose I'll write again when I have something of interest to say._

Hermione closed the book and lay down on the couch she had previously been sitting on. She began to reflect on all she had read.

"Who knew Draco Malfoy was so wise and thoughtful? Who knew he was so insightful?" Hermione said out loud.

Smiling unconsciously, Hermione stood up and went back into her room. She was soundly asleep within minutes.

**Author's Note--**Aww, Herm! Oooh! She likes him!! Hehe... Anyway, another quick update! Yay for me! They won't be this quick in the future, I can promise that... especially with the evil finals coming up!

So...THANKS:

ClumsyElf--Hope you liked it! Sorry for the cliffie... hehe... had to be done... Keep R&R!! Thanks!

Zarroc--Haha... I think the list would go on forever!!! Hope you liked this chapter, and keep R&R! Thanks!

AmericanIdiot252--Thanks! Keep reviewing!

Dangerous Love--haha... I hope you thought this update was quick! I hope you liked the chapter; I hope I didn't disappiont you! Thanks for reviewing and keep reading!

So, thanks for reading, all, and keep reviewing! Thanks!

xDreamerx


	13. Secrets Dissolved

**Chapter 13—Secrets Dissolved**

As the month of February progressed, Hermione continued to read Malfoy's journal as some sort of bedtime book every night before she went to bed. The things she discovered about her long-time rival were phenomenal. As she neared the second half of the book, Hermione found herself mentioned quite a few times. It was interesting to find out exactly how much Malfoy knew about her, but even more interesting was finding out what Malfoy felt for Hermione and how much he didn't want to feel these emotions.

As Hermione neared the end of the book, February neared its end. Hermione was certainly confused about Draco's motives with her. One entry claimed he was crazy about her, and yet another screamed that he hated her.

But, the things Draco said about her! Draco was amazinglypoetic and claimed that Hermione was a beautiful angel sent down by God. He described her with warm, inviting features, "golden waves upon her head, golden hazel eyes, a small delicate nose, pale ivory skin, and perfect lips which were so incredibly soft placed against mine." Hermione almost forgave him for cursing her "mudblood" name so many times.

It was obvious that Draco felt something for Hermione, and on the night of February 20th, Hermione decided to find out exactly what it was.

Finishing Draco's journal, Hermione grabbed it and left her room, walked across the hallway, and knocked on Draco's door. Moments later, it opened and revealed Draco in his boxers, who had obviously been sleeping.

"Granger?" He said, rubbing his eyes.

"Dr-Draco. I stole your journal--"

"—You what?!"

"And read it."

"You filthy little--"

Hermione raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it easily in the air.

"Listen," Hermione continued, her hand still in Draco's. He let go of it. "I read what you wrote about me, and I'm going to be the bigger person and just come out with it. Dr-Draco? I really fancy you and maybe even more, but I'm not sure. I fancy you, I do, and I understand if you don't feel the same, though your journal proves otherwise, but correct me if I'm wrong…"

Draco didn't say anything; he just stood there, a million thoughts racing through his head. He thought about all the time he had spent with Hermione and the obvious unwanted chemistry forming between them. Draco thought about his life before all this had started, what had come to be known as his past life. If he said the word, if he told her he fancied her, that would be a commitment—something he had never had before. Did he really want to give up his Bachelor life, so to speak, for something consistent?

Well, he had made a decision, one of the biggest ones he had to make to date.

"Yes, Hermione Granger," he said, somewhat shaking, surprising even himself. "I quite like you. I believe I fancy you."

She smiled and he took her face in his hands. And their lips met. She pulled him nearer, crawling with desire to be closer to him for he had just done the hardest thing he had ever done in his entire life, and he did it for her. Hermione's fingers tangled themselves in the white-blonde hair she loved so much and it seemed as if the kiss would go on forever, not that either of them minded.

All the thoughts of uncertainty vanished and he melted into Hermione's kiss. When Hermione broke away, Draco pulled her back in and kissed her once again.

They backed up into Draco's room, blindly making their way to Draco's bed, still attatched at the lips. They laid down on Draco's bed and Hermione pulled away.

"Draco…" She said.

"I understand," he said.

"I'm sorry," Hermione replied. "Can we just sleep?"

Draco nodded and Hermione positioned herself in Draco's arms and they fell fast asleep, together.

* * *

At the conclusion of the eventful month of February, another ball was scheduled. Hermione, with her keen common sense, did not see the need to purchase yet another set of dress robes; she resolved to wear ones she had worn at a previous ball.

As Hermione walked through the corridor, it seemed to her that everyone was canoodling. She appeared to be the only one not flaunting her new-found love interest. Not that she felt she was in love with him. She really just didn't know how she felt, but these mysterious feelings were starting to frighten her.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she witnessed several break-ups in the corridors. She resolved that they had only gotten together as a result of Valentine's Day, wanting someone to satisfy them, needing someone to call their own for one night. Now that is was over with, Hermione figured, they saw no need to continue seeing each other—hence, it was time to get back into the swing of everyday life.

Hermione had been very busy, what with only four months left of school, teachers cramming in all the information before they were sent off into the world, and the third ball to plan. However, things had changed slightly. Working with Draco had been a great deal more pleasant since they had decided to become whatever it is they became. Hermione liked it because she did have feelings for Draco, but uncertainty nagged in the back of her mind, making her question what they were exactly, and causing her to wonder why she had to lie to her friends about him.

It was all quite grey, actually, and somehow through all this she felt isolated. No one understood her position and she couldn't even explain how she felt. Sometimes she wished the whole world knew about her and Draco and that thought frightened her.

So, Hermione lapsed into what she called her "work mode." The less she had to deal with people, the less questions she had to answer, the better. It had become almost like an addiction for her—the thing she came back to when all else failed. When everything around her was crumbling, it still remained. Facts would never change, though everyone else would, and that was her constant; she needed that.

Hermione sighed in relief as the portrait for the Heads' room came into the sight as she was only too happy to get out of the hustle and bustle of the corridor. She knew Draco would not be there and the thought of her isolation comforted her more that she cared to admit.

Hermione made her way across the empty room to the desk in the corner. Opening the drawer, she pulled out a packet of parchment, slipped it into her bag, and fled the room.

There was a ball that night. Draco was already in the Great Hall preparing for the event and Hermione proceeded to the room, smiling when she entered at the way Draco was furiously ordering people around.

"It's really coming along," Hermione called to him, walking in his direction. "Here's the information you asked for." She handed him the packet of parchment, which he read and then spoke.

"Aha! The Weird Sisters are playing this ball. I knew it!" Draco looked at Hermione smiling and she returned the smile. Dumbledore came up to them, looking back and forth between his two star pupils. Hermione noticed his first and shook her head, wiping the smile from her face. Draco cleared his throat and looked away. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily.

"You two have really brought this together," he said. "Run along and get ready now; I can handle it from here." He looked between the two Heads who were both refusing to look at each other. "I'm sure your dates are eager to have a miraculous night with spectacular people."

"Thank you professor," Hermione blushed.

A date. Draco had been so preoccupied with Her--…Quidditch that he had forgotten to rustle up a date. It wouldn't be difficult to find a worthy girl, being the most handsome bloke in the castle, (though that insufferable Pot-Head and his loyal follower, Weasel were attracting much of the Hogwarts population this year for some odd reason) however, as he ran a list in his head of the girls that would drop their dates like flies for the opportunity to date Draco Malfoy, a familiar masked face appeared in his mind. He elected to, what muggles say, go stag.

Hermione was well aware that she would be attending this ball alone, though she had several offers. Draco had not asked her, and this left Hermione a little down-hearted, though she knew he couldn't possibly as her sworn enemy be seen in public with her, talking, smiling, maybe even standing near her. Hermione also felt a pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach as she thought about the boy from the balls and wondered what lie behind that carefully carved mask and if she would ever know the truth of his identity.

Hermione climbed the stairs, deep in thought, not noticing Draco glance at her every few moments. Even the Headmaster knew there was something forming from the forced confinement of the Heads' room. Had he been planning this? And was it possible that he really was the greatest wizard in the world, or was Hogwarts simply legally blind?

Hermione snuck a peek at Draco who appeared to be deep in thought as well. She wondered how many, if any, girls had seen this vulnerable side of him, and in that moment she felt special and lucky. She smiled and looked away.

"What are you so happy about?" Draco asked, noticing her evident smile. "Your hot date lined up for tonight?"

"Maybe… Well, you probably have a room all lined up for your, what would you call it, conquest for tonight," Hermione replied, feeling stabbed with a pang of anguish.

Draco observed her carefully and resolved that while they both knew they had been joking, there was truth in Hermione's words. There had always been a post-ball party with the Slytherins which included alcohol, strip poker, and inevitably, sex. Draco, however couldn't help hearing something in Hermione's voice begging him to tell her it wouldn't be the same this time.

Draco took Hermione's hand, looked around for signs of someone that would see them, and tilted Hermione's chin to look her in the eyes.

"Look," he said. "I know my reputation isn't the greatest…"

"You can damn well say that again," Hermione replied, looking away. Draco placed his hands lightly on the sides of her face and guided her head up to meet his gaze, which softened at her delicate features.

"Listen. I can't change the past or what I've done, but… as cliché as it sounds, it's different with you. I can't explain it and I don't understand it, but there's something about you… I've never felt this way about anyone and…" He sighed and let go of her, looking away. "Look, you're… brilliant and I know it's going to take a long time to repair the damage I've done all these years, but… I'm willing to. You're… alluring, and… so amazingly… just beautiful."

It made Hermione smile to see the perfect, pretty-boy Malfoy stumble over his words and she placed her hand on him, framing his face. She saw sincerity in his eyes and heard honesty in his voice. She couldn't help but believe the beautiful boy's words.

"Hey," she said, his softened silver eyes meeting her warm gold ones. "You're not so bad yourself, you know."

"So I've been told, once or twice," he smiled.

"And I just want to say," she continued. "This—me and you—whatever it is, I'm in."

And then came the words every girl in Hogwarts prayed to hear coming from the experienced lips of Draco Malfoy.

"Me too."

Hermione gasped as Draco slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her tight. She placed her hands around his neck and pulled him down to meet her lips.

Any doubts that Hermione had about Draco disintegrated once their lips touched. All logic flew out the window to be replaced with illogical thoughts, like if the couch or bed would be more comfortable, like whose room would be a better setting for it.

Hermione pulled away suddenly when she realized what 'it' was. Draco searched her eyes for an answer, but they were clouded and distant.

"The ball… I need to get ready," she said forcing a smile; Draco knew because he had forced a significant amount in his day.

Hermione turned at whispered the password to the Heads' room. Draco caught her as she began to enter the portrait.

"Hey," he said. "Are you okay?"

"Yup," she said not meeting his eyes. "Fine."

Another fake smile.

She gave him a peck on the lips as if to prove her point and stepped inside the room with Draco trailing behind her.

They never noticed the figure around the corner who had not only caught the entire conversation, but had silently snapped a photo with a wizarding camera.

"Oh, by the way, Ginny will be here in--"

KNOCK, KNOCK!

"—Now," Hermione continued. Draco narrowed his eyes and whispered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, 'damn Weasel junior.' "She happens to be my best friends and she's helping me get ready for the ball." Draco rolled his eyes as there was another knock on the portrait. "_Please_, pretend to hate me!"

Draco plopped on the couch and flipped through a magazine, smiling at Hermione.

"Hey Hermione! I passed the Great Hall and peeked in; it looks great! Anyway, I brought all my make-up and--"

"Ahem."

"Oh, hello, Malfoy." Ginny said the older boy's name with disdain, though it didn't feel as genuine as it had been in the earlier years. Draco merely raised an eyebrow.

"Weasley," he drawled.

Hermione looked back and forth between the two.

"So, Gin," she said. "Ready?"

Ginny checked her watch.

"We only have _two hours_!" She replied, dragging Hermione to her room. Draco shot Hermione a quick smile before Ginny closed the door behind them.

After searching through her bedroom closet, Hermione discovered a light pink-lavender dress robe which Ginny, being the expert of course, said went flawlessly with her skin.

Ginny, not having the money to purchase yet another robe for the numerous balls at Hogwarts this year, resolved to magically dye one previously worn. She choose a blue one, dyed it ivory, claiming it matched her skin and would cause her vibrant hair and intense eyes to stand out. She shortened the hemline a few inches and slipped it on.

A few hours later, the two Gryffindors emerged. Hermione wanted to see how good she knew Draco would look, but his door was closed and she was supposed to hate him again.

So they left, as each other's dates, masks clutched in hand.

The ball was mostly uneventful. Early on, Ginny had discovered a few Ravenclaw boys and proceeded to flirt senselessly with them, who in return flirted shamelessly back. Hermione sat at the table with them, downing cups of pumpkin juice like shots, mind drifting.

She remembered the last ball, the boy, and the magic of the night. She remembered his kiss—so gentle, so breathtaking, so…familiar.

Now, Hermione was a clever girl and had not kissed many boys, though almost all of them had been at Hogwarts. There had been one muggle boy over the summer that Hermione had semi-dated, but there was only two boys at Hogwarts, including Viktor… and Draco.

But it couldn't be Draco. There was something so different about this boy. And, yet… there was something so familiar.

Hermione brushed the thought out of her mind as her glass magically refilled itself.

"I'm going to look for Ron and Harry," Hermione told Ginny, who nodded, not hearing a word Hermione said.

Hermione rolled her eyes and was off her chair. She maneuvered through waltzing couples to the other side of the Great Hall, but there was still no sign of the vibrant hair identical to her best friend's.

Hermione sighed and plopped down at an empty table. She began to poke a questioning piece of meat with a fork and willed her mind not to drift to Draco or the mystery boy, or even the thought of them being one in the same.

She didn't notice someone making their way through the crowd that parted for him and approaching her.

* * *

Draco entered the Great Hall and smiled smugly at the remarkable room he had single-handedly decorated... or at least ordered everyone else to decorate.

The first thing he did was locate Pansy's hair-sprayed, make-up-caked self so that he could steer clear of her.

Then, he sought out the mystery girl and resolved to keep her busy until after midnight so that he could see her without her mask and confirm his suspicions of her identity.

He had decided it was a flawless plan since girls had never been able to resist his charm… that is except the one that mattered—Hermione Granger.

Draco felt a strange emotion in the pit of his stomach that he had never felt before as he thought of Hermione and the rare commitment he made to her earlier that day. He couldn't help feeling that maybe that unsettling feeling making him sick as he searched for the mystery girl, maybe it was guilt.

* * *

"Having fun?" Rang out a voice as the source sat at a nearly vacant table.

"Not particularly," Hermione replied, looking up. "You," she said, smiling.

"Me."

They stared at each other awkwardly for a few moments before the boy cleared his throat and looked away.

"So, where's your date?" He asked.

"Hmm… don't have one. And yours?"

"I'm, uh, flying solo."

"Oh…"

"So…" he replied uncomfortably. "Do you, uh, want to dance?"

"Sure."

He pushed Hermione around the dance floor expertly as though he'd done it a million times before.

"Where did you learn to dance so well?" Hermione asked.

"When I was younger, my parents insisted that I take lessons and perfect my dancing for the balls we have at Malf—my house."

"Ahh, pureblood."

"I didn't say that," he replied. Hermione smiled. "Hey, do you want to get out of here?" Hermione raised a single eyebrow at the intent behind his words, but he seemed sincere so she took his hand and let him lead the way, obviously intending to take her to a specific place.

He led her outside where the full moon gleamed brightly above and the lake sparkled like someone threw a handful of glitter over the waves. Hermione remarked upon the spectacular sight, sitting by the lake and slipping her off her heels to slide her feet into the soothing water. The boy sat beside her, against a tree and watched Hermione gaze at the water as her face was illuminated by the moonlight. Even through her mask, he could tell she was beautiful. He took her hand and drew her body close to his, touching his lips to hers.

Hermione began to melt into the kiss. Though she hadn't kissed many boys, this mystery boy's kiss provided the feelings she had only felt with only other boy.

Suddenly, she pulled away, Draco's face flashing in her mind.

"What is it?" The boy asked. "You have someone waiting for you?"

"Kind of."

"A… A _boyfriend_?"

"Not exactly," Hermione replied, not knowing hoe to explain the complexity and confusion of her relationship with Draco.

"Then what?"

"I… I don't know. I can't explain it. It's complicated."

Just then, Hermione's mask began to slip off as the clock screamed to her that it was midnight. She held her mask in place.

"I have to go."

Hermione began to get up, but the boy pulled her towards him and kissed her. She felt herself getting lost again, her mind becoming hazy once again, so she pulled away, her mask exposing nearly all her face before she snapped it back in place.

"I can't do this. I have to go," she repeated and dashed off, only removing her mask when she got inside the castle.

Draco followed her into the castle, up the stairs, and around the corner towards the Gryffindor Tower. She stopped to catch her breath and Draco hid around the corner, watching. His eyes lit up as he recognized her flawless ivory skin, golden eyes, and lips like a bright pink rose.

Draco watched as Hermione grazed her fingertips that were still tingling from the mystery boy's kiss.

Draco smiled from around the corner at the sight of the confirmation of his suspicions.

* * *

No one seemed to notice as a sleek figure found her way to the portrait in front of the vacant Heads' room. She whispered the password given by a Head who never thought she would betray their trust and she slipped inside.

After searching and ransacking the common room, she came upon a desk in the corner with the episode of the newspaper that would go out the next day. The girl slipped her hand inside her bag and pulled out an article complete with a shocking photo. She knew no one would believe the article without proof and she had captured it earlier that day in front of that very room between the two Heads.

Sliding out of the room, the girl made her way back to her house's tower for the after-ball party.

_Revenge is sweet…_

**Author's Note-** AHA! I AM AMAZING!! And quite sick, I might add, which is why I can update so soon. Anyways, I got another chapter out within 4 days of the last one, which is pretty good for me, I think!

Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope this answered some questions from the last chapter, and added a few more questions to your minds! I hope you liked it. I just finsished writing it last night, so I don't know if it's any good, but let me know!

I'm pretty sure I know most of what's going to go on in the next chapter, but don't expect is too soon! I may be sick, but I'm getting better and I don't think my mom will let me stay hone any more days from school!

Anyway, I think thanks are in order!

The Queen of Confusion--So he kind of found out, but she admitted it! I hope you liked it, and I'm really sorry about the long update! Keep reading and reviewing please!

ThisScarlettePhoenix--Well, I hope you didn't check every week for very long! Sorry about the long update! Next one will be sooner, I promise. Hope you liked the ball! I know it wasn't much, but I'm running out of ideas for the balls, and frankly, I think I'm getting a little bored of them! Anyway, thanks so much and keep reading and reviewing!

Well, thanks to all and R&R!!

Next is FOF!

xDreamerx


	14. The Shortest Forever

**Chapter 14—The Shortest Forever**

Putting on a smile despite her confused and slightly frazzled state, Hermione entered the Gryffindor common room for the after-ball party. Deeply lost in her thoughts, she hardly noticed the Witches Wireless Network blasting through the room, only audible once she entered it. She passed her friends and planted herself in front of the fireplace, not noticing the bewildered glances Harry and Ron shot each other. The duo walked toward their best friend who would normally forbid the behavior taking place around her and sat beside Hermione, shooting each other another glance. Harry and Ron silently argued who would be the first to say something to the Head Girl, Harry prodding Ron, who furiously shook his head and then observed Harry expectantly.

"Her-Hermione? Are you all right?" Harry said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What? Oh, yeah, fine, Ron," she replied, eyes never wavering from the cackling fire. Harry glared at Ron who had let slip a snort of laughter.

"Hermione, it's Harry," he corrected.

"What?"

"You-you called me Ron. It's Harry," the-boy-who-lived repeated, concern growing ever more apparent in his voice. Ron was no longer laughing.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione said, finally looking up to meet the eyes she had dreaded facing for months. She was afraid they would read her mind and discover what she had been struggling to hide for what seemed like forever.

"Is something wrong?" Harry uttered the question that had been bothering both him and Ron for some time now.

Hermione visibly struggled with something inside her. She knew she couldn't tell Ron and Harry about her more than civility with their sworn enemy. They had all loathed each other the moment they laid eyes on each other, the moment they found out his name. Despite the fact that she was a mudblood and he was the so-called _Prince of Slytherin_, he had taunted them mercilessly since the moment they met, Hermione seeming to get the worst of it because her parents were muggles. It was utterly implausible for her to have formed a relationship with _Draco Malfoy_. She could hardly believe it herself and she was the one actually falling for the stupid boy's charm.

Childhood rivalries aside, this boy who she had come to fancy (_if not more, _she thought shaking her head.) had a father who happened to be in alliance with the very man who vowed to kill her best friend at any measure. How could she allow herself to be involved with someone who could easily turn around and murder her best friend?

On the other hand, it wasn't as if she wanted any of this. It wasn't as if she jumped for joy at the thought of being confined to the same room as her childhood enemy so that she could get the "bad boy" of Hogwarts to fall in love with her—bookworm, mudblood Hermione Granger. She had matured beyond the rivalry they had during previous years and she felt that Draco had as well, though she knew after all he had put Harry and Ron through, they could never forgive him.

_They haven't,_ she thought in almost disgust, _seen the side of him that I have. They never will, and I could never dream of asking them to. However, they're my best friends. They have a right to know why I have been steering clear of them for weeks. I can't keep lying to them. I can't stand the guilt anymore! They deserve to be let back into my life. They _have_ been my life… That is until Draco and I began to…_ She felt her cheeks grow hot in embarrassment. _What has happened to me? I've become the very thing I despise. I have become one of those girls who ditch their friends when they meet a boy. I'll just have to spend more time with them, that's all. I'll just have to tell Draco that. He'll understand. _

_And in the meantime?_ Her mind questioned.

_I can't tell them. I just can't! What would Hogwarts do if they found out? I'm not sure I even want people to know. Draco definitely doesn't. I don't want to lie to my best friends, but… It's just not time. I can't even figure out how I feel about him and when I do, I'll tell them. I'll tell them when it's right, _she vowed._ And until then, I'll spend more time with them. Draco will understand._

_…I hope…_

"Hermione!" Ron shouted, snapping Hermione from her heart-wrenching thoughts. She gave her friends a questioning look. "We've been trying to get your attention forever! What has gotten into you?" Ron asked, his usual anger toward Hermione beginning to show.

"Nothing, Ronald. Absolutely _nothing_." Hermione replied a little too coldly.

"Then _what_ the bloody hell is your problem?" Ron snapped.

"Ron…" Harry said quietly, trying to get Ron out of yet another fight with their best friend.

"Excuse me?" Hermione sputtered in disbelief.

"You avoid us for weeks, claiming you have too much of your precious _work_ to attend to, and when you finally do deem us worthy enough to be in your presence—"

"Ron!" Harry said louder, sighing in frustration when Ron went on, ignoring his best friend's plead for civility.

"—You're lost in your own bloody world! Tell me, Hermione, has this new sense of selfishness come with your damn _Head Girl_ position or do you just honestly not give a d—"

Suddenly Ron's eyes widened in realization and Hermione took this opportunity to finally get a word in edgewise.

"Yes, _Ronald_, in case you haven't realized, I made Head Girl. In case you didn't get it through that thick head of yours, Dumbledore has set up loads of new things this year which, believe it or not, has kept me busy! _And_, for your information, I have not been the only one with other obligations! You two have always ditched me for Quidditch! Now that I finally have a life, you pick now to decide I'm chucking you? _Honestly_! I'm sorry that _your_ social life has taken a pitiful dive for the worst, Ronald Weasley, but that is no reason to take it out on _me_!"

Ron's eyes remained abnormally wide, but they began to flash in fury at Hermione's words. Harry stared at Hermione in disbelief and after her words echoed in her mind, she gasped out loud.

_When did I become so cruel? _She mused. _I didn't mean it to come out that way, it's just… He makes me so angry! He's so bloody ignorant! …I know that's no excuse, though. I have always been the bigger person and well, now I'm just acting immature just like—_Her eyes widened in shock—_just like _Draco Malfoy_. Oh, dear Merlin, he's rubbing off on me! I can't allow this. I need to stop spending so much time with him, lest I turn into a cold-hearted prick, just like Malfoy._

"That's it, then," Ron replied angrily.

"What's it?" Harry asked quietly, hoping this wouldn't spurt another fight.

"That's why she's been ditching us all this time."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione said sighing, tired of the continuous arguments with Ron.

"All right then, who is he?" Ron asked furiously.

"Ron, what on earth are you on about this time?" Hermione said a little too quickly to be believable.

"This bloke you've been abandoning your best friends for, who is it?"

"I _told_ you," Hermione replied, letting out a shaky breath. "I've been spending all my time in the Heads' room."

_Okay, that's not a lie,_ she thought, attempting to comfort her unsettling stomach.

"That's rich," Ron snorted. "With who, then?"

"RON!" Harry shouted. Ron's head shot towards Harry, eyes still ablaze with anger. "Why would Hermione lie to us?"

_Thanks a lot Harry,_ Hermione thought. _As if I couldn't feel worse…_

"For your information," Hermione continued, not about to allow Ron make a fool of her. "I have been working."

_Yeah, working on your love life,_ a voice said in Hermione's mind.

"Besides, I don't see how that would be any of _your_ business, Ronald!" Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously, as if daring Ron to say something else. He was taken aback, his mouth wide open.

"Hermione," Harry began. "Ron didn't mean it."

"Like hell!" Hermione responded. "Look, Harry, I'm sorry." She shot Ron a look, refusing to be the first to apologize once again. "This was supposed to be a fun night… I think we all need time to cool off. I'll… I'll see you around."

"Are you coming to Quidditch tomorrow?" Harry asked, hopeful to resolve this issue more quickly than the many in the past. "We'll need your support if we're going to beat those nasty Slytherins!"

Hermione felt her heart beat painfully as she realized she would have to watch Draco out there as well, but she swallowed hard and managed to reply in an unsteady voice.

"Of-of course, Harry. I can't wait." With that, she swept from the room, smiling weakly at the other Gryffindors as she left.

She felt tears stinging at her eyes and knew that only one thing would help her at a moment like this.

She just hoped there would be no protest.

* * *

Slipping quietly into the Heads' room, Hermione winced when the portrait slammed shut, piercing the room with its sound. She tiptoed to her room, hoping she wouldn't be noticed. Unfortunately, luck was not on her side.

As she opened the door to her bedroom, cringing at the creak of the door, the entrance to the room opposite hers flew open revealing her fellow head.

"Hermione?" She grimaced at the sound of her name being called and turned forcing a smile.

"Um, hi, D-Draco," she replied, still not used to his name coming for her lips.

"Listen," he responded, tilting her chin up for she had been refusing to meet his eyes. "I was going to go to the Slytherin after-ball party, but it's really just the same old people doing the same old thing. What do you say we just stay here tonight and have a little party of our own?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione couldn't help but blush at the implied meaning behind his words, however, she had sworn to herself to spend less time with Draco and more time with her friends. Hell, she hadn't even spent a day with Ginny in months! She looked at the floor and bit her lip, worried of the reaction he would have when she told him she would rather spend time with the people he had tormented endlessly since they day they met.

It wasn't that she'd _rather_ spend time with them, it was just that her feelings for Draco were growing far too strong for her liking. It scared her how easily she had grow these feelings for her once worst enemy. Also, she knew her friends were growing suspicious of the time she spent confined with who was supposed to be her worst rival and while she couldn't stand to continue to lie to them, she also couldn't bear to tell them the truth. It would kill her to see the disappointment strewn across their faces when they discovered she had fallen for bastard, Draco Malfoy. On the other hand, she wasn't sure how long she would be able to keep this a secret from the most important people in her life.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Draco asked, forcing her to meet his eyes again. Hermione hadn't realized how often she had been lost in her thoughts when she was supposed to be speaking of imperative matters.

Hermione grew shy in his intense gaze and moved to turn from his stare, but before she did, Draco caught her lips in a brief kiss. She smiled and was amazed that such a brief kiss could contain so much feeling. She was ready to agree to spend the night with Draco as she looked into his stunning silver eyes, but as he leaned in to kiss her again, Hermione snapped out of the trance he always seemed to force her in and pulled away.

Draco's eyes flashed in anger and a hint of what appeared to be embarrassment and dropped his hand from her face as if he'd been burned. Hermione tensed in sight of the gaze he used to give her before he and she had become what they were at that time.

"I'm sorry," she began, trying to read his eyes. She sighed in frustration. "Look, I just feel like… maybe we've been spending too much time together." Draco's gaze hardened and he clenched his jaw in anger. Hermione looked at the floor, trying to summon the strength to continue. "I… I've had to lie to my friends about what I've been up to and I can't stand it. I'm not saying I'm going to tell them what's really going on, it's just… If I'm going to convince them that nothing's going on, I'm going to have to spend more time with them. And I miss them. I really do. I feel that all I've been doing is staying in here with you and, well… I need some time with them to throw them off my trail. _Our_ trail. They're beginning to grow suspicious and… I'm not sure how long I can keep this up. I just need to devote some of my time to _them_ for a while, that's all."

Finishing, Hermione looked up to see a fire burning in Draco's eyes. She opened her mouth to apologize again, but he held a hand up to stop her.

"Fine. Spend time with your pathetic friends, seeing as they're the only ones you're going to get. At least someone is willing to sink down to your level. Forget about tonight. In fact, forget I ever saw anything in you. You're a filthy little mudblood and I feel sorry for myself that I have to waste time with you. I don't know why I did in the first place. I'm a _Malfoy._" He eyed her up and down in dislike. "I deserve much better than _someone like you_."

Hermione felt tears sting her eyes for the second time that night, threatening to plummet down her pale cheeks. Her mouth was slightly agape in shock, but she closed it as he finished speaking.

"You're right, Malfoy," she whispered, shocking both herself and Malfoy. "You deserve better." A single tear ran down her cheek, but she didn't bother to brush it away, cursing herself for letting Draco Malfoy affect her so much. "I'm… I'm sorry I ever met you."

Draco cursed under his breath and walked out of the heads' room, Hermione wincing once again at the sound of the slamming door. She stood in silence for a moment, staring at the ground where Draco had stood just moments before. Then, she let her tears fall freely for a minute before wiping them away, refusing to cry any longer. She took a deep breath, straightened her robes, and head off in the direction of the Owlry.

_All I wanted to do was take a bath…_

* * *

"What do I say to someone I've been lying to for months?" Hermione questioned out loud to her only confidents—the owls.

One owl hooted in response and edged closer to Hermione. She elected this particular one to make the journey. Sighing and sitting on the few inches of the bench that was not plastered in owl excrement, she extracted a piece of parchment from her bag and decided she had stalled long enough. Lifting a quill she began to write.

_Ginny—_

_I'm sorry I_

What could she say? 'I'm sorry I have ignored you when I discovered an interest other than schoolwork'? 'I'm sorry I disregarded your attempts to spend time together so I could spend more time with the one person the entire school is convinced I detest'? 'I'm sorry I changed'?

Deciding that each of the options shooting through her ever-conscious mind would not due in the slightest, she settled for:

_I'm sorry I've been so busy. I know that that is no excuse for excluding my friends from my life, but you know how I can get._

Pausing, Hermione brought the quill to her mouth and checked over the few words she had written to make sure Ginny couldn't infer anything from them that Hermione didn't want her to know. _Good_, Hermione thought. _Just stick to what she already knows about you. Stick to what you know is safe._

_Anyway,_ the letter continued. _I'm looking to spend some quality time with my best friend and make it up to her. If you don't have anything planned, why don't you come to the Heads' room and we'll have a slumber party, just like old times._

_Love, Hermione_

"Simple enough," she decided, and the owl hooted in agreement before allowing the letter to be strapped to its foot. Hermione watched it fly off for a moment, and then turned on her heel to leave, head held high.

This night was not one for fights with Draco Malfoy which inevitably ended in her breaking down in tears. This was not a night of what had oddly become routine—staying in all night with Draco. This was not a night for mixed emotions and feelings and heart-fluttering kisses, despite the fact that she did not exactly hate the latter.

This was a girls' night.

* * *

When Ginny arrived in what she hoped was some time with the girl she had been friends with for six years, she was expecting the normal Hermione—studious, slightly uptight, and annoyingly neat. She was looking forward to the girl she had loved since they became friends in Ginny's First Year. She was not, however, prepared for the girl who met her at the door.

Despite the fact that Hermione's hair had always been frizzy and unruly, it seemed exceptionally so then. It was as if she had not even bothered to brush it, preoccupied with much more trivial matters than her hygiene. Hermione had bags under her eyes, which wasn't unusual, however these seemed deeper, bruising, and made her look much older. It was obvious to Ginny as soon as Hermione opened the door that something was wrong.

When they walked into Hermione's bedroom, Ginny couldn't stifle the gasp that came out of her mouth. There were books scattered along the floor. Her school robe was slung over a chair and her shoes were on opposite sides of the room as if she kicked them off in rage. This was the last thing Ginny expected, even taking into account Hermione's dreadful appearance. Hermione would have more likely not showered for a week than put an object out of its designated place.

Hermione had to shove a few books off her bed so they could sit on it. Ginny took careful note that Hermione allowed them to fall carelessly onto the floor, without even blinking in the direction of the mess. Ginny eyed her best friend carefully, attempting to access the severity of this problem.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked cautiously. It was the first words they'd spoken to each other that day. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Of course, Ginny," Hermione answered, disbelievingly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but you kind of look like shit."

Hermione attempted a smile which appeared more like a grimace before she sighed, put a hand to her forehead, and spoke in an exhausted tone.

"Don't be silly, Ginny. You know better than anyone the pressures of being a prefect, so you can only imagine the tremendous pressure of being Head Girl."

"Yes," Ginny replied, remaining her cautious tone. "But, it's never been a problem before. I know you've been stressed out before, but… Come on, Hermione. It's never been this bad. I'm saying this because I love you, Hermione. This is ridiculous. Look at your room! It's a mess! You, who won't even allow your paper to get folded, you have books and papers and clothes everywhere! Please, Hermione. Just… You know you can tell me anything. You can trust me, probably better than anyone. Please, just tell me what's wrong."

Hermione took a deep breath. She didn't know what to say. Yes, Ginny was her best friend, and if there was anyone she could trust in the midst of anything, it was her. However, she didn't know if she could bear any reaction Ginny would have.

Hermione highly expected that Ginny would be disapproving, above all. Having a relationship (if she could even call it that) with her worst enemy was something she didn't think anyone, not even her best friend, would accept. Ginny knew Hermione better than anyone and this was something Hermione would never do. It went completely against her character to be even civil to Draco, let alone fancy him (though Hermione was still debating if she did fancy him, taking into account his apparent mood swings and their past). Hermione didn't think she could handle rejection and possible alienation from her best friend.

On the other hand, Hermione also didn't think she could handle it if Ginny was accepting to this new development. Hermione slightly forbade it herself and didn't even know how she felt about it. She was sure it was not a good thing, this relationship with Draco Malfoy. What if Ginny thought it was okay, let alone good? What if her best friend encouraged this relationship and thought it could possibly be beneficial and enjoyable for Hermione? And one final question haunted Hermione more than anything else: what if Ginny was right?

Hermione ran through both sides of the argument, analyzing it thoroughly. After much consideration, she decided that it would be more beneficial to have someone know rather to be in on it alone. The pressure of the secret was starting to get to her, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could take keeping it from everyone. What's the worst that could happen? Ginny would never discontinue their relationship because of Hermione's choices, this she knew for sure. So, she opened her mouth, expecting to be vague, as to not reveal much, but as soon as she spoke, she blurted the ugly truth out, bluntly.

"I'm sort of dating Draco," Hermione began, looking down at the bed in shame. She could almost feel Ginny's mouth drop.

"Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?" Ginny asked in disbelief.

Hermione's head dropped farther and she played with a piece of string from her quilt. She sighed, still gauging Ginny's reaction and then began to speak with uneasiness. As she spoke, she didn't once look at Ginny's face, lest she see the disappointment she assumed was written across it.

"Yes. It started innocent enough. We were locked in here, you know. We had to be together all the time. I know it's no excuse. I didn't set out for this to happen. I didn't wake up one morning and say, 'I think I'll fall in love with Draco Malfoy today,' you know, but I— "

"You're in love with him?" Ginny exclaimed. Hermione's eyes widened in panic. She hadn't meant to say that. After all, she wasn't sure herself if she even fancied him or not.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted after a moment. She looked up at Ginny, who wore a solemn, unreadable expression. "I don't know what I'm feeling. I don't know how to describe it. It's like he's a totally different person behind closed doors. He cares about things, you know, and I don't just mean school work. He has plans. And he's really intelligent. He's not the person he was. But… It's just so frustrating. My whole Hogwarts career I was convinced he was one person and then in the course of a few months, I discover he's someone completely different. And I know what you're thinking. I know this is crazy and I'm not even sure it's for real. I can't even make up my mind if I fancy him or not. I mean, half the time he's sweet and considerate, but the other half he lets his horrid temper get to him and explodes. Sometimes he lashes out and returns to his old ways, old insults, but at the same time, I know it's not genuine. Call me crazy, but somehow I know that he cares about me." Hermione paused and looked down at the bed after realizing she couldn't read her best friend's expression. "But, it's not love. It couldn't be. It's infatuation at the most, but… I don't know. I've never felt this way before. He makes me feel like more than the girl everyone else sees. I mean, I know my reputation: bookworm, teacher's pet. I don't like the way I'm seen. He makes me feel like I can be more. He inspires me to think outside the box and strive to be the best I can. He makes me feel… like I'm somebody, like I'm worthy, like I'm loved."

After finishing her speech, Hermione stole a glance at Ginny whose mouth hung slightly agape. She hung her head in shame, realizing that she would have rather Ginny accept this secret because the expression Ginny wore was tearing a knife through Hermione's heart. After a silence that seemed to go on forever, Ginny took a deep breath and responded.

"Hermione, you don't need anyone to make you feel good about yourself. I love you more than you'll ever know. You're my best friend and you're amazing. And I think you're right in believing that no one would understand how the two people who hated each other more than anyone in our school have come together in love." Hermione opened her mouth in protest at the word 'love,' but Ginny held up a hand to stop her. "I know that you don't know what you're feeling and that it's probably really scary because not only have you never felt like this before, but you're feeling it for the one person you were sure was unchanging and that you would despise until the end of time."

"I guess the end of time is pretty short these days," Hermione responded quietly.

"It's just… I don't know why you hid it. I mean I can understand why you would keep it a secret from Harry and of course from my idiot brother, but I'm your best friend. You have to know that no matter what, that will never change. I will never stop loving you. You're the sister I never had. You're stuck with me now!"

They shared a brief laugh before Ginny spoke again, saying something that reassured Hermione more than anything had in what seemed like her entire life.

"Your secret is safe with me."

Hermione and Ginny shared a brief hug before they lay on Hermione's bed, head's together and arms hooked at the elbow. Hermione, much more relieved now that she had an ally and confident, was lost in shallow thought about her previous fight with Draco and how it would be when she woke with him there. Ginny was fighting internally to ask the question that had been dying to explode from her since she heard the most unlikely confession from Hermione that she was dating Draco. Finally, Ginny gave in, giggled, and asked.

"So, how good of a kisser is he?"

**Author's Note: **Ahh, the cat's out of the bag! To Ginny at least... XD

Anyway, once again, i have to apologize for the long wait! I'm so very sorry! You know, one of these days, I won't have to apologize for making you all wait because one of these days, I won't make you wait! Don't I wish...

Anyway, I am officially out of high school! Yay! Yay college! Don't worry, I won't abandon my beloved stories! This actually means that I have more time to write since I'm only going to school three days a week... so starting now, I'm going to work on that, not having to say sorry for long updates since there won't be any, thing.

Um, I do believe thanks are in order...

First of all, thanks to all the readers, even those who don't review, for putting up with my long updates and sticking with me, even in the awkward stages of my stories!

AmericanIdiot252

Zarroc

ChibiTomoyo

Thanks to everyone else and don't forget to Read and Review! Next is Feed on Fear!

xDreamerx


	15. No Time in the World

**Chapter 15—No Time in the World**

Hermione woke early the following morning. Despite the fact that she had only managed a couple hours of sleep, the sleep she did get was dreadful, filled with fits of nightmares. Only when she woke up did she realize that the nightmares were reflective of reality.

At four in the morning, Hermione decided she'd had enough and rolled out of bed, careful not to wake Ginny who was silently slumbering beside her. Hermione paced her room for a bit before realizing that the clutter shielding any view of the floor was preventing her from going very far. She resolved to continue in the common room.

Hermione built a fire in a feeble attempt to comfort herself, but decided that nothing would ease her miserable feelings. Not wanting to have to reflect and over-analyze the many arguments she'd had the previous day, Hermione did what she did best: she worked.

An hour later, Hermione was furious that copying the Magazine issue due out that day had only taken her until five in the morning. She had five hours before the Quidditch match would begin and four hours before she would even be allowed in the Great Hall for breakfast. This was the time Hermione had feared; this time in which she had nothing to do was the reason she had firmly decided to keep herself incredibly busy. She didn't want to have to think.

Absentmindedly sitting on her couch in the Heads' Common Room, she glared at Draco's empty couch as if it were mocking her.

Hermione didn't understand why Draco couldn't accept the fact that she had people she cared about other than him. She cared about Draco a great deal more than she'd like to admit, and this was the reason she felt she had to distance herself from him. She was scared.

She didn't understand Draco at all. His mood swings were as apparent as the coldness in his eyes—there one second, but gone the next. However, it was there much more often then it wasn't. She couldn't believe that she kept letting him treat her this way.

_And every time, I just keep going back for more, _she thought, not realizing that she was pondering the exact thoughts she had kept herself busy trying to forget.

She couldn't believe the terrible things he had said to her. She was furious because she had thought they had moved past the "mudblood" stage. She thought that he saw her for what she was and had left past loyalties behind.

It was not the first time she thought Draco was playing a trick on her, making her fall for him and then yanking the rug out from beneath her.

_Maybe it was all an act. Maybe I have no clue who he really is._

Most of all, Hermione was mad at herself. This cycle of ups and downs and the pain he kept hurling at her was getting old. It was like her emotions had been put in overdrive these past months because she had to struggle to keep up with Draco's mood swings.

_I don't know how much longer I can put up with this, _Hermione told herself, but she knew it was a lie. She knew she was in too deep now and that this relationship would inevitable end in her demise. She knew she wouldn't get out with her emotions, sanity, and maybe even her morals in tact.

Sitting in the common room, Hermione never noticed the fire burn itself out, plunging her into darkness. Wrapped in her thoughts, she never noticed the tears plummeting down her cheeks, forming wet lines of weakness that didn't seem to be drying.

Hermione would never forget what Draco said to her the previous night. The words were burned into her mind because they held such anger, such frustration, yet she couldn't tell if he had meant them. The words seemed to echo in the dark, empty room, burdening her with the memory of the betrayal she had seen in his eyes that he cast down on her to feel in return.

_"Spend time with your pathetic friends, seeing as they're the only ones you're going to get. At least someone is willing to sink down to your level… Forget I ever saw anything in you. You're just a filthy little Mudblood and I feel sorry for myself that I have to waste time with you. I don't know why I did in the first place. I'm a _Malfoy._ I deserve much better than someone like you."_

But, Hermione couldn't help feeling that that last bit did contain some truth. He was a Malfoy and that required specific obligations, not that Draco had any intention of doing what his father wanted him to do.

Hermione wondered briefly if Draco was still being forced to become a Death Eater, but quickly pushed the thought aside, deciding that Draco had caused her too much pain to deserve even thoughts of sympathy.

_It would never work out between Draco and me,_ she continued. _We come from two different worlds. I would never be accepted in his world, and I don't even think I expect to be accepted. That's probably the reason for his hostility. Maybe he's trying to distance himself because he knows that he should. He knows that he shouldn't be with me. _

Hermione suddenly found her couch very uncomfortable. She moved over to the green and silver one across from the red and gold one she lay on. She immediately felt comfortable and at ease. She suddenly felt very safe.

_I think… I think I love him,_ she realized, hating every second she thought these loathsome words.

_Maybe I should just forget about him…_

* * *

In the next room over, Draco was wide-awake, staring at the ceiling, lost in the same exact thoughts that Hermione was lost in. Only, his thoughts were much darker.

_Maybe I should forget about her. Lucius would kill her if he found out and not lose any sleep over it. It's for her safety, really. I couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt, especially if I was the reason for it._

Draco turned on his side and suddenly an image of golden eyes filled with betrayal, an outstanding amount of pain, and, of course, tears flashed in his mind.

He always seemed to make her cry...

_I can't believe I said those horrible things to her. I just… I don't understand. With everyone else, I can keep myself in check. I don't blurt out things I don't mean, I don't let my emotions show at all, and I don't fumble over my words. With her, I can never seem to say the right thing, can't seem to control my temper or what comes out of my mouth, and I always seem to be hurting her, even if I had intended to do the exact opposite. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm a Malfoy! I should not be acting like a bloody schoolgirl!_

_But, I didn't mean what I said. I wish she knew that. I was just angry. How dare she pick her stupid friends over me?_

_Well, _the logical side of his mind argued. _They were there before you ever noticed her. They were her world while you were making her life hell._

_Well, I'm not making it any better now, am I, with getting close and then pushing her away. What's the difference? Either way her life is going to be hell._

_But, you've never had experience being close to anyone,_ the other side challenged. _Your mother is terribly cold and distant, and Lucius doesn't exactly win "father of the year." _Draco snorted at his thoughts. _Maybe you just need to let her know that it's hard for you and that you don't mean it. You know how patient she is. She'll understand. _

_Apologize? Malfoy's don't apologize. Especially to Mudbl—_

_Don't use that word! You know you don't believe that's what she is. You know she's better than that. Why don't you just get over your pride and apologize? You know you love her._

_Do not. I don't love her. That's ridiculous._

_You love Hermio—_

_I DO NOT LOVE HER!_

_Yes, you love Hermione Granger!_

"I don't love her!"

Draco's eyes widened as he realized this last bit was out loud. He quietly went to the door of his room and opened it. He tiptoed across the hall and put an ear to Hermione's door. He could hear the quiet sounds of slumber inside. He breathed a sigh of relief and decided that the only thing to rid himself of these troublesome thoughts was a cold shower.

Draco was halfway into the Common Room before he noticed a figure lying crumpled on his couch. He fingered his wand in his pocket, ready to curse this figure that wasn't Hermione because he clearly heard Hermione in her room, fast asleep.

"Who's there?" He called out, threateningly. The figure, startled, jumped and fell off of the couch.

"Ouch! What the bloody hell?" Came Hermione's distinct voice from the floor. Draco quickly stashed his wand in his pocket and rushed over to her.

"Hermione?" Draco asked cautiously.

"No, it's the bloody Easter Bunny, Malfoy. Who the hell do you think it is?" Hermione replied, rubbing her head. She returned to her seat on Draco's couch and he moved to sit on hers.

"Wait, then who the hell is in your room?" He asked, reaching for his wand again.

"Relax. It's Ginny."

"That little—"

Hermione silenced him with a glare.

"_Weasley_ is sleeping here tonight?" Draco asked after a moment.

"Yes. I needed to recruit some allies if I was going to be forced in here another night with you and your terrible mood swings." Draco looked at the floor in what Hermione could have sworn was guilt. "I don't understand you."

"Well, Granger, we're in the same boat. I don't understand _you._" Hermione sighed.

"But I don't understand me either," she said after a moment.

"Me either," Draco replied so quietly that Hermione almost wasn't sure he'd said it.

"Look, you can't just treat people like shit and expect them to take it," Hermione responded after a few minutes of silenced had past.

"Did you just say 'shit'?"

"Don't change the subject!"

"What do you want from me?" Draco said, louder than he had to be. Hermione looked at him very carefully for a moment.

"Nothing." Her voice quivered. "I don't want anything from you." Draco sighed.

"Damn it. I can never seem to say the right thing with you!" Hermione rose to get up. Draco crossed the space between them in one stride and grabbed her arm, but not forcefully. Just so that she would look at him. "Look," he started. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "You know I didn't mean what I said yesterday."

"Do I?" Hermione said, her voice dull and emotionless.

"God damn it, why do you always have to be so difficult?" Hermione turned to walk away once again, but Draco pulled her back towards him. "I'm fucking sorry, okay? I just…" Draco let go of Hermione's hand and looked down.

This time Hermione made the contact because she realized that this was the hardest thing Draco ever had to do: throw his pride away and apologize. Hermione pressed her face into his chest and draped her arms around him, taking in the addicting scent of Draco. Draco wrapped his arms around her waist.

"It's just that… I've never been this close with someone. No one has ever seen the part of me that you've seen. Therefore, I push you away… And I know that one of these days, you won't come back and… well, I don't want that." Hermione cupped Draco's cheek and forced him to look her in the eyes.

"Hey," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Draco leaned down and kissed her in a way he had never kissed her before. He had been so scared that he would never be able to kiss her again, and so he kissed her with such tenacity, with such vigor, like there was no more time left in the world.

Because, really, he was sure it was only a matter of time before his father found out about his relationship with Hermione.

Soon, there would be no more time left in _his_ world.

* * *

After a few hours that didn't feel a bit as long as the ones before it, Ginny left without a word. She tiptoed past a slumbering heap of Hermione and Draco in the Common Room, not knowing how to feel about witnessing such an unnatural sight. It was like seeing an elephant on the highway—you have to stop to wonder how on earth it got there and would want to remain there, but then realize you have more important things to do than investigate. After all, a trainer would no doubt be there shortly to knock it out and pull it back to where it belonged.

Shortly after, Hermione and Draco owled the edition of the magazine and headed off to breakfast, but not together, of course, which irritated Hermione greatly. She felt like they had come so far in their relationship, but when they woke up, it was exactly the same and he still didn't want to be seen with her. It was like they were secretly dating, and Hermione didn't want to be kept hidden, like Draco was ashamed of her.

As Hermione pushed open the doors of the Great Hall, which were actually light as a feather despite their enormity, she easily picked Draco out of the crowd, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. As she walked between the tables toward her usual spot next to Ginny, she soon became aware of several eyes following her. In fact, it seemed that every person in the Great Hall was watching her silently. Well, all except the ones that she wanted to meet.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. She quickly looked down at her clothes, wondering if she might have put her underwear on top of her pants in her haste to get to breakfast before the Quidditch match. However, Hermione hadn't as much as put on two different socks. Shrugging, but feeling more uneasy than she had in her life, she continued to walk to the Gryffindor table.

She quickly picked out two masses of fire red hair, which could only be the Ron and Ginny and she sat next to Ginny, across from Harry and Ron. Harry wouldn't meet her eyes, but had no problem looking everywhere else in the Great Hall. Ron had turned a harmless magazine into shreds in his clenched fists and glared furiously at the table, as if he was trying to set it on fire. Ginny watched Hermione, shock and concern evident on her face.

Hermione glared at the hundreds, possibly thousands, of faces watching her as she pulled a plate towards her and began to load it with food, furiously.

"Just what the bloody hell is everyone's problem?" She whispered angrily to Ron, Harry, and Ginny.

Ron met her gaze only long enough to glare at her ferociously. Harry seemed to have taken an interest in stabbing the table with a fork. Ginny eyed Hermione carefully.

"What are you talking about? You had to have known this would happen. You had to know people would react this way. I'm surprised you haven't been cursed yet," Ginny whispered only loud enough for Hermione to hear.

Hermione began to notice a murmur that had befallen the Hogwarts students. She threw them all another glare before turning back to Ginny.

"What are you on about? React this way about what? I didn't do anything!"

"You mean you honestly don't know?" Ginny asked after a moment of searching Hermione. Ginny found sincerity when Hermione spoke of no knowledge as to the reason for the Great Hall's curious behavior. "I mean, you have the final say on the magazine… I would have thought you would notice." Hermione's eyes widened in panic.

"I didn't look over it one last time before owling the copies," Hermione realized with dread.

Ginny slowly pulled out the magazine from her bag and slid it across the table for Hermione to read. Hermione flipped through the book until it opened to the middle (coincidentally to the Gossip Column) where she dropped it as if she had been burned and gaped at the open page in horror.

There, on the open page, oblivious to the disturbing photograph being snapped of her, was a brunette Gryffindor. Only, she wasn't alone. She watched the photo regretfully as a boy with unmistakable white-blonde hair grabbed her around the waist and pressed his lips upon the bushy brown-haired girl's. The girl snaked her arms around the boy's neck and tangled themselves in the hair that only one boy in Hogwarts had. After a moment that felt like a lifetime, the girl pulled away, smiled at the boy, and turned to enter the portrait of the room Hermione knew too well. The boy then pulled the girl back to him to speak, and the girl finally kissed the boy again before pulling him into the room with her.

It took Hermione a second to remember how this scene was familiar, but then it hit her. She knew it from her memories. It was her and Draco, plastered across the magazine Hermione had spent days perfecting for all the Hogwarts population to see.

Then, suddenly Hermione began to feel sick as she realized that she had already owled copies to the parents of these disapproving students.

Hermione looked up to meet the eyes of the Great Hall, but began to feel dizzy, as all their faces seemed to blur together. She didn't dare glance at her friends, but looked back at the magazine because there was an article following the horrific picture that repeated the forbidden actions over and over, making Hermione want to tear out her eyes so she wouldn't have to witness it a moment longer.

_Beauty and the Beast_

_By: A Concerned Witness_

Hermione knew, in dread, which one was "the beauty" and which one was "the beast."

_Despite recent attacks by You-Know-Who being at a record high, it seems that not only the corridors of Hogwarts are safe anymore._

_There has always been a common rivalry between the two houses, Slytherin and Gryffindor, however, two students seem to have tossed aside past loyalties, along with their sanity, and come together in love. Who are these condemned students, you may ask? They are none other than our very Head Boy and Girl, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. It seems that living together has not proved to be unproductive for these students' love lives._

_While Hermione Granger has never proved to have lucked out in the boyfriend department, Draco Malfoy has easily been seen as the most attractive and popular boy for his entire Hogwarts career. So, why on earth would Draco Malfoy waste time on homely Hermione Granger?_

_Some speculate that Granger, being the smartest witch of her year, has mastered a love potion and put innocent Malfoy under her spell. Others claim Malfoy is using Granger in a desperate attempt to anger his father, Lucius Malfoy, or that Granger is bribing Malfoy with doing his homework so she can rise up the social ladder._

_Reserve two beds at St. Mungo's, though not near each other, because Hogwarts seems to be home to two criminally insane teenagers. One thing is for sure: Hogwarts has never seen a stranger, nor more repulsive, love such as this._

Hermione dreadfully faced the Great Hall once more, face flushed for a mere second before draining of all color. She could feel tears brimming her eyes and she searched for the one person she knew would meet her with understanding and comfort, but he refused to look at her, more interested in the wooden table in front of him.

One thing Hermione knew for sure: she had to get out.

* * *

From across the Great Hall, Draco watched discretely as Hermione wobbled as she stood up, looked around the Great Hall one final time, and then ran as if her life depended on it. He figured that, in a way, her life _did _depend on it. Well, her reputation did, at the very least. He felt a twinge of concern for Hermione, but didn't dare get up and go after her. He'd done enough damage and wrecked enough havoc on the brown-haired Gryffindor's sheltered life.

And Draco felt, quite suddenly, that Hermione had had enough, and he knew he had to get out. He had done more than enough damage on his House and much more harm to his reputation than he had intended.

And suddenly he felt extremely angry. How dare someone make such of fool of Draco Malfoy? Did they have any idea who his father was?

Then, Draco began to feel sick as he realized that his father received the Hogwarts magazine each week to update himself, seeing as Draco refused to answer his letters. Draco knew that if there was any time to break off this fling that had turned into more, it was now. And he knew he would have to intentionally hurt Hermione, for it was the only way to assure that she would hate him. It was best to make sure that she would never want to see his face again.

Several minutes after the Great Hall doors closed behind Hermione and the students began an uproar of whispering about her, Draco stood. He had no intention of going after Hermione. He had no intention of making sure she was all right.

However, he had every intention of escaping and seeking comfort in the Great Outdoors.

There was no other option: he had to fly.

* * *

As Hermione broke through the doors of the Hogwarts castle and into the crisp day, she felt like she was taking her first breath of life. She paused momentarily at the doors before walking towards her favorite tree by the lake.

_Well,_ she thought, disgruntled, _the cats out of the bag now._

She settled herself into the base of the tree, a place she felt was cut out just for her, seeing as it fit the groves of her back perfectly. Hermione sighed in exhaustion before allowing her mind to roam aimlessly.

She knew Draco hadn't wanted this. She knew that there was no possible way this was Draco's doing. After all, he wouldn't even walk part of the way to the Great Hall with her, out of fear that he would be seen with a "mudblood."

However, on the other hand, Hermione couldn't help but feel a sense of relief, knowing that it was finally out in the open. She no longer had to keep her relationship, and possible love interest, a secret. Despite knowing that her friends would alienate and disown her, she couldn't help feeling at ease because she didn't have to pretend anymore.

_But, how is Draco ever going to want to see me again? He probably thinks I did this, as a sick ploy to get him to admit his feelings for me. I mean, sure, I hate that he hides me like I'm an embarrassment, but I know he has good reasons for it. I'm a Gryffindor and he's a Slytherin. His father is a Death Eater, and I'm muggleborn. I know that it would never work out, but… I'm in too deep. I can't just discard these feelings. I've never felt this way about anyone before. _

_But… even if this ends now, I will look back on this time and smile, remembering how we spent our Seventh Year as Heads. I know what we had was real; you can't fake those kinds of emotions._

_And, _Hermione continued her thoughts, preparing herself for what she believed was inevitable, _if this ends now, I will be glad that I had the chance to really feel things, to open up my insides. If I see him again, I will smile at him and remember how he taught me to live and take life for what it is: an endless thrill of opportunities._

Hermione threw a rock angrily into the lake, almost wishing that it were a certain blonde-haired boy's face.

_But, I don't want it to end. I know that it would prove that happiness is simply fleeting, and that life isn't simply kisses and lullabies. It would shatter my belief in love, and even lust, if this was to end, because…_

_I love him. I really do. I love Draco Malfoy, and I'm not ashamed of it._

"I love him," Hermione whispered, letting her words be swept away by the wind.

She figured it took something drastic to plunge a person into the depths of love. She wasn't able to pull herself out of the hole she had dug for herself by getting involved with Draco, so she decided to do the next best thing.

Hermione needed to tell Draco that she was completely, head over heels, a fool in love with him. She just hoped he wouldn't push her away when the one thing he needed was for her to stay.

* * *

As Draco plunged himself into the air, he felt invincible, he felt infinite. He let the air soar past him, knowing that the good feeling couldn't last forever. After a few moments of flying to clear his head, Draco landed on the slightly frosted grass and allowed himself to reflect on all that had happened within the last ten minutes.

_I know Hermione couldn't have done this. Sure, she hates that I have to hide the fact that we're together, but she's not dumb and she understands why. My father would kill her if he knew, which he does now. Not only is she a Gryffindor, but she's a muggleborn, and that would never be okay. I'm a Malfoy; I have obligations. It's not like I intended to keep those obligations, but Lucius will do anything to keep me focused on his dream: me becoming a Death Eater. _

_However, _Draco's thoughts contradicted, _I've never felt this way about anyone. It's like she's different from all the other girls. I care about what she thinks, and it's more than just a physical attraction. I…_

Draco sighed in frustration.

_Damn it. I fucking love her. _

He kicked the ground in frustration, exposing up a bit of grass and dirt from its protective place on the ground. Draco carefully observed how, if he were to set the grass back in its proper place, it would be as if it never left because its spot lay vacant, waiting for its return in the perfect shape of the piece of dirt.

_This only means one thing: I have to end this._

Draco continued to walk around the outskirts of Hogwarts, until he reached the lake. He stopped abruptly as he realized there was a figure sitting by the lake. She seemed to be crying. Upon closer inspection, Draco realized it was Hermione and was about to turn to leave when she spotted him. There was no turning back now.

Draco walked cautiously towards Hermione and she stood once he reached her. She angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks before she smiled up at Draco, showing her obvious embarrassment.

"Hi," she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying.

"Hi," he replied, his voice quiet from thought.

There was a long pause in which both of them stared at the ground, wishing it would swallow them up. Finally, Hermione broke the silence.

"I hope you know I didn't do it. I would never…" Her voice trailed off as Draco met her eyes.

"I know," was all he said. Hermione suddenly collapsed in a fit of tears and Draco had nothing left to do but sit next to her quietly until the tears subsided.

"I don't know what to do," Hermione said, hiccupping with tears. "Everything is all messed up now. I didn't mean for anything to go this way. I had plans! And then you had to come into my life and…"

Hermione looked up and met Draco's eyes. After a second, Draco averted his eyes to the ground in anger. He swallowed, preparing himself for the hardest thing he ever had to do. Hermione looked at the ground also, hurt by Draco's obvious avoidance of her.

"I don't know what to think anymore," Hermione whispered, more to herself. "Everything mattered before I got involved with you. Now, my foundation has crumbled." And then Hermione took a deep breath as she prepared to admit the feelings she knew she could no longer deny, even to herself. "I think… I think I love—"

"I think we should stop seeing each other," Draco cut Hermione off, knowing what she was about to say. It was the most painful thing Draco had to do. It was more terrible to witness Hermione's broken-hearted expression than to witness a Death Eater attack, led by Draco's father. Draco refused to meet Hermione's eyes as she stared lifelessly at him. There was a long moment of silence, as if Hermione was mourning what they had. Then, Hermione said something that shocked both Draco and herself.

"I… I guess you're right."

Draco knew she didn't mean it. He knew, hearing her words broken by the beginnings of tears, that she was shattered. He knew because he loved her, and love gave someone the power to break you.

Hermione continued to stare at Draco in shock, as if she didn't believe he would damage her this way. She had given so much of herself to him, invested so much in this relationship she thought was lasting, and here he was, ending all ties with her.

Draco stood up carefully, fearing that if he looked at Hermione, he would turn to stone. Before he turned and walked the devastating way to Hogwarts, he whispered two words to her, not knowing if she ever heard them.

"I'm sorry," he said, knowing nothing would ever be the same.

Hermione didn't respond as she stared lifelessly into the lake. She felt as if the rug had been pulled from under her, as if a lifetime of happiness had been dangled in front of her, only to be snatched away once she got used to the idea.

Once Draco was far enough away that he couldn't hear her, Hermione said what she had meant to say, tears threatening to fall from her dead eyes.

"I love you," she said, stuttering the words as water fell unceasingly from her eyes. "But I guess it's not enough anymore."

* * *

Draco walked away feeling like he'd made the biggest mistake of his life. Although he knew it was better for Hermione not to be involved with him, he knew that he had just made an unforgivable error that could never be undone.

For an instant, Draco wanted to turn around, tell Hermione he had lied and that he couldn't live in a world without her because everything since her had paled in comparison. He was dead before her, he wanted to scream at her, and she made him feel alive.

For a second, Draco thought that he would rather take his chances with Lucius, if he could be with Hermione until his father killed him, because he knew Lucius would murder him. He wanted to hold Hermione, kiss her, like there was no time left in the world, because there really wasn't any time left in Draco's world.

Draco wanted to turn around, apologize, and take the fragile girl into his arms, making everything okay for her, making her forget there was anything else in the world besides the two of them.

Instead, Draco trudged on, dragging his feet away from the one thing that kept him alive, the one person he kept him breathing.

He walked away, regretting every second, from the girl he was hopelessly, head over heels, foolishly in love with.

He didn't know if he could live with himself anymore; he really didn't.

**Author's Note--**STUPID STUPID MALFOY! -wacks Malfoy with broomstick- Ahh! Why does he do these things?! Well, at least now they both realize they love each other! But Malfoy had to go and mess it all up, as usual. He'll never learn, will he?

Anyway, this was a quicker update than usual, right? I promised in the A/N for Feed on Fear that this chapter would be up this week! I kept my promise for once! Yay me!

So, I do believe thanks are in order!

AmericanIdiot252--I had to give her an ally if she was going to continue to face Draco and his terrible temper! I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter, and hope you liked this one as well! Thanks for reviewing and keep reading!

Zarroc--Thanks! I know, Draco is terrible to her, but I guess that's just his nature, what with his upbringing and all that. I honestly don't know what's going to happen next, but I think that he's gonna get a little nicer... hopefully, haha! Anyway, thanks for review and keep reading!

So, thanks to the others, and don't forget to review! Next is Feed on Fear and I hope to have that up by this time next week? Possibly sooner, but I won't promise that for sure! Thanks again!

xDreamerx


	16. Confessions to a Listening Corpse

**Chapter 16—Confessions to a Listening Corpse**

An entire week passed in which there was no contact between Hermione and Draco. Hell, Hermione hadn't even seen him in the week that followed their "break up." Draco made it a point to never be in the room when he knew Hermione would be there. Not only did he not want to talk about the decision he had made regarding Hermione—the decision to cut her loose from him—but he also didn't think he could handle seeing her.

He was right. Hermione was a shell of her former self. Sure, she went through the motions. She wrote her essays, she pretended to take notes in class, but really, she wanted the Earth to swallow her up. Really, she wanted to forget that this secret relationship had ever happened. Really, she was dying from the pain of it all.

And there were too many hours in the day. Hermione tried as best as she could to fill them, not wanting to remember how she had filled them a week ago. She needed to stay busy because the moment she let herself think, she would replay his words and remember the cold, almost guilty look in his eyes. Yet, the second her mind was free to roam, it ran back to Draco, as if it didn't want to think about anything else. Her mind was as stubborn as Hermione herself and refused to let go, even though Hermione begged it to forget.

Yet, on the other hand, Hermione didn't want to forget. She wanted to remember, when looking back on it in the future, how she had spent her seventh year with her first love. She couldn't let herself forget because if she did, that time with him wouldn't exist anymore in the only place it ever could again, in her memories.

Hermione sighed as she pulled her quilt tighter around her. She was always cold these days, as if her mind associated the feeling of warmth with being happy, which she was sure at this moment that she would never be again. She rubbed her tired eyes, but refused to give in to the sleep her body craved, knowing that once she shut her eyes, she would be plunged into a fit of nightmares. Only, they weren't nightmares; they were memories.

The rational side of Hermione's mind, the one that barely made an appearance these days, told her that this was all for the best. She knew the reason behind Draco's actions was his father, and she had to believe that because she didn't want to even think the other option.

But, then suddenly, like a bolt of lightning hitting her straight in her chest, her mind voiced the option that she had put all her energy into warding off.

_He doesn't want you._

Now, she had doubts.

It wasn't as if Draco was bound to Hermione. He didn't owe her anything. She had never even received a clear answer about how he felt about her the entire time he spent with her. Couldn't that option be not only plausible, but probably true?

Hermione rolled on her side, forgetting that this moment she was sinking into was the one thing she had avoided all week—thinking.

Hermione realized that she hadn't asked Draco for a reason for their break up. She had just accepted it, wanting to respect what he wanted. She briefly wondered if it would make things any better, knowing the truth.

_He would probably lie anyway,_ she told herself, a firm believer of standing behind what she did, even if she would regret it.

Hermione shook her head, disgusted with herself for thinking about the subject she had been avoiding, and stood to get up. Immediately after she stood, she sat back down, realizing she had nowhere to go. She was caged in this room without even the comfort of having Draco with her, even if he wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Because he was never there anymore. Even when she stayed up nights waiting for him, not even to talk, but just to see his face to reassure herself that he was real, he never showed. He was avoiding her and Hermione wondered how he had switched so quickly back into 'enemy mode.'

_No, not enemies,_ she thought. _It's worse than that. He's acting as if I don't even exist. He acts like I'm just wallpaper._

And she had nowhere to go because the whole school was in on this secret between Hermione and Draco. Only, the school was a couple months late in this news. Whenever Hermione took a step outside the Heads' room, she was greeted by the familiar dirty looks, betrayal, and disgust. And that was only Harry and Ron.

_Harry and Ron…_ Hermione remembered, remorsefully.

She would never forget the expressions on their faces. She had never seen them act that way before. Harry, whom she expected to be sad yet understanding with his distance, was angry. He seemed utterly repulsed by her very sight. He hadn't said a word to her, but every time Hermione unwillingly met his eyes, she was greeted by all he was thinking. Harry felt betrayed and Hermione felt that years of keeping the peace between her and Ron had taken its toll on Harry and turned outwards. Harry had always been the peacemaker, always the one to resolve fights between the three of them. But now, he didn't want her in his life. He was angry at her for messing up much more than ever before. He was hurt and deceived. Even he couldn't fix this one and Hermione felt guilty. Every time Harry met Hermione's eyes, it was written across his face everything he wanted to say, and Hermione didn't know how much longer she could live with herself, with her guilt. She had twisted Harry into someone unrecognizable, someone hostile, someone angry at the world for changing.

Ron, on the other hand, refused to look at Hermione, let alone meet her eyes. He acted as though she had never existed, as though they had never spoken, as though she were already dead to him. He wanted to forget her, forget that he ever knew her. Normally quick to anger, Ron's reaction puzzled Hermione to no end. He wasn't angry; he wasn't even really hurt. He was numb. He had written her off in an instant, labeled her a traitor, and erased her completely from his life, and his line of vision. Hermione knew she had caused Ron pain, so Ron closed up and refused to let anyone in. He acted as if he didn't know her, as if he wished she didn't exist.

And those was her best friends. Hogwarts, on the other hand, was much crueler. Draco got off easy, with a simple, 'what were you thinking.' However, Hermione figured he wasn't labeled a blood traitor out of respect and fear. If you knew what was good for you, you didn't mess with Draco Malfoy. That was a fact.

Sure, it couldn't have been easy to be in the Slytherin house, where secrets can not only get you killed, but can make you the target for the Dark Lord. It was bad enough that he was a Slytherin involved with a Gryffindor, but it was worse that he was Draco Malfoy involved with mudblood Hermione Granger. She was the target of Draco's father and everything the dark side stood for.

Taunted, cursed, and hated on a daily basis. It wasn't something Hermione would wish on anyone.

***

And just a few feet way, Draco was lying wide awake upon unruffled blankets, having the same exact thoughts.

He felt sorry for Hermione. Not sorry in the way that he saw she had a terrible life and hoped it would never happen to him. He was sorry because he caused this all. It was his fault that the magazine came out revealing their relationship. He should have been more careful. It was his fault she received death threats on a daily basis.

_I should have never kissed her in the first place. She would be on her way to becoming an Auror like she's always wanted instead of zoning out in classes. She might be with some guy who doesn't hurt her the way I have a tendency to. She might be happy never knowing me._

_It's my fault she's broken. It's my fault she loves me. It's my fault I can't live without her. It's my fault I'm weak._

That's what all the thoughts came back to, Lucius's words drilled into Draco's mind. His mind revolved around the idea that if he would have never started a relationship with Hermione, everything would be in order for both Hermione and Draco. Draco would be on his way to becoming a Death Eater and Hermione would be on her way to becoming an Auror. They would be fighting to the death against each other. One of them would have died. Draco would bet money that it would be Hermione.

But now, his whole world was flipped upside down. He didn't know which way was up, which side was right, or even how to make sense of the mess that was his mind. Hermione had made him think, instead of being a mindless follower, like his father had taught him to be. He knew for sure now that there was no way he could go back to the way his life was before her. There was no way he could become a Death Eater. There was no way he could go home and leave this year at Hogwarts in his past.

And he was angry. He was furious that his only options were to hurt her so terribly that he couldn't live with himself, or kill her. Now he couldn't imagine his life without her. It would be like comparing a gray rainy day to one filled with sunshine. They were worlds apart and once you had a taste of the sunshine, you never wanted to go back to the cold rain.

However, despite the pain it caused him to hurt Hermione, he was proud that he made himself absent in her life. Draco wanted her to forget him because if she didn't, there was no way he could even try to forget her. He wanted to make it as if they had never met, as if he didn't exist so she could go back to her life. Maybe if Hermione forgot Draco existed, he could forget she was ever a part of his life as well, though the thought of going back to who he was before Hermione was utterly laughable. But he had to hold out hope. That was the one thing that separated Lucius from Draco. Draco had hope for the future, where as his father was already dead inside.

Draco sighed and rolled over on his side. He really didn't know how much longer he could keep up this charade. It killed him to not only go through with this separation between himself and Hermione, but also to see her because her face always had the same expression, like he had etched it into her skin. Her eyes were horrified and careful, as if she was expecting any second for the world to swallow her up. She was pale, like she hadn't eaten, and looked as if she hadn't slept since they last talked, which was exactly the case because Draco could hear her pace around her room at all hours of the night. He knew because he hadn't slept since he ended their relationship.

Even Draco could handle all these things about Hermione, but there was one that he couldn't. Her mouth, her lips that were always quirked into a teasing smile, were pulled tight in a grimace as if she was in so much pain that it was all she could do but scream out loud. She looked as though she was in so much mental pain that it was hurting her physically. She looked dead and Draco was her murderer.

***

As the month of March quickly faded into the background of just another year at Hogwarts, April arose and the priorities for all students changed. NEWTs were quickly approaching. In a measly two months, the Seventh years would be shoved off into the real world and be expected to survive. This was not a time for pointless distractions.

As a result, the students seem to write off the article about Draco and Hermione as an end-of-the-year prank. There could be no possible relationship between the two Heads when they refused to acknowledge each other's presence.

With this problem off Hermione's mind, she decided to take action. She decided to pay a visit to the Gryffindor common room.

She quickly found Harry and Ron playing chess by the fireplace. They looked so normal, as if all three of their lives hadn't just been shaken up. Harry was beating Ron as usual, but trying not to beat him by very much so Ron wouldn't feel too terrible. Ron's face was scrunched up in concentration as he scanned the board for a move.

Hermione took a deep breath and held her head high, knowing she might very well be walking into the Lion's Den. After a second of watching her former best friends, who had not even noticed her like everyone else seemed to be doing lately, she made her way across the room.

"Hello Harry, Ron," Hermione said quietly once she reached the pair. They didn't even look up. Hermione desperately wished everyone would stop ignoring her. She would almost rather Ron's terrible insults and arguing. This was almost too painful to bear. Everyone wished she didn't exist, and so she began to wish it a little herself. "I would like a word, if that's alright," she continued, attempting to keep her voice even. No response. "Well, you can just listen then, because some things just need to be said."

Hermione pulled a chair in between the two and took a deep breath, staring at her hands.

"What I did was unforgivable," she began. "I lied to you, my best friends. I kept such a big part of my life a secret. I avoided the truth. But, what you two did was inexcusable. You discarded me like some toy you didn't want to play with anymore. You ditched me when I needed you two the most. You abandoned me when everyone else did.

"And I realize that I should have told you. But, would you have listened? Wouldn't you have discarded me as soon as you heard the words Draco Malfoy, from me, of all people? You wouldn't have heard me out. You would have made assumptions. You know, people are bound to change within seven years, Malfoy included. But, let me set the record straight." Hermione paused only long enough to glance up at Harry and Ron. They were listening, but staring at the chessboard as if they were still playing. Hermione, however, could see that Harry had already won. She looked down again and took another breath to calm herself.

"I love him," she said, not pausing for a reaction. "I know that probably sounds insane. Hell, if you would have told me six years ago, or even last year, that I would fall for Draco Malfoy, I would have died right then and there. But I do. I love him, and it doesn't matter who knows. He's changed. Sure, he still torments younger years and the other houses, but he has a different side. He's not a Death Eater, nor does he ever wish to become one. He's not mean; he has just had a terrible life. It's a defense mechanism, because _no one_ wants to get hurt.

"I know it doesn't make sense. I know it sounds mental, but that's love. Haven't you ever loved someone so much that the past doesn't matter anymore? That the future is some obscure thing that will never happen? That's how I feel.

"I know you two will never adjust to this and I know you will never accept it, but you have to remember who you're talking to. You know I never do something unless I'm sure about it. You know I'm the smartest witch of the year. You have to trust that I know what I'm doing. I love you two, and I would never do anything to hurt you. But, it's my life, and I think I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I just would have never thought you, of all people, would abandon me when I needed you. The whole school hated me. And now my best friends hate me for something that I can't control, something that I would probably take back, given the chance. But I can't. You can't help who you love. You're not supposed to." Hermione paused for a second, letting her words sink in. Then, taking a shaky breath, she continued.

"Not that it's any of your business but… it's over. And… I need you. This is by far the hardest thing I've ever had to experience. I'm losing everything I've ever had, and some things I never even dreamt I would have. I can't lose you two." She took another breath to calm down and bring herself back down from her thoughts.

"Anyway, I apologize. I'm sorry for lying to you, but I'm not sorry for being with Malfoy. I was happy with him, something I've been working at for years and never have been able to achieve." Hermione paused, reflecting her own thoughts. She looked at Harry and then Ron, and stood. "Well, that's all. I just thought you should know, I'm suffering inside this body you believe is ruining your lives."

Hermione walked out the portrait, confident and brave. Only when the portrait closed did she collapse against the wall in a fit of tears.

***

Days after her confrontation with Harry and Ron, Hermione had still not slept. She had taken to an energy potion she'd found in a book, and it easily replaced her meals. She avoided the Great Hall. She didn't speak to anyone. She had read every book in the library. Twice.

Draco was worried. He had been reveling in how easily he had been avoiding Hermione. She had begun to ignore his presence. Then again, she really didn't acknowledge anyone else in the first place. But, they didn't even act like she existed.

However, slowly, she began to seep back in. When he saw her in classes, deep bruises seemed to be permanently drawn under her eyes. She was pale with a twinge of gray. She was losing weight when she already didn't have any to spare.

Draco flew up to his window and climbed in around midnight one night. This was how he avoided Hermione. She thought he didn't stay in the Heads' room anymore, but every night, he went for a ride on his broom and snuck back into his room, the sounds of her insomnia lulling him off to sleep.

Tucking his broom into its place in his closet, Draco slipped off his shoes and lay in bed, starring at the ceiling. He could hear Hermione ruffling papers in the common room. His mind began to wander.

_It's better this way,_ he told himself. _She will get over it. At least this way, Lucius won't kill her. At least she has a chance now. _

_She's falling apart. I never thought it would hit her this hard. But it's better for her not to be involved with me. I'll only hurt her. She deserves someone better._

Draco heard Hermione muttering spells to herself. She was already more than prepared for her NEWTs, with how she had thrown herself into her studies. She could have administered the test at this point, but still, every night, she practiced every spell she had ever been taught. Then again, there really wasn't much more to do when she hadn't slept in dangerously close to a week.

_If she's better off without you, _a voice in the back of Draco's head argued, _why is she making herself sick? She won't eat. She won't sleep. She was happy with you. Now, she's disintegrating._

_It's better this way, _Draco maintained. _I can't bear to hurt her anymore than I already have and I know I'll only disappoint her. She doesn't deserve this._

_Right, she doesn't deserve this. She deserves to be happy. So, why are you making her so miserable? She was happy with _you. _She loves _you. _And you love her._

Draco sighed and continued to listen to Hermione moving around in the common room. Her breathing seemed to get much louder and strained, but Draco didn't think anything of it, wrapped in thoughts about Hermione.

_Yes, we love each other. But it's only enough to hurt us more._

Right then, Draco heard the distinct sound of a body hitting the floor. He wasted no time.

***

Several hours later, Draco sat in the Hospital Wing with his least favorite people in the world, Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Hermione looked like a corpse on the bed before them. Draco couldn't muster the strength to look anywhere but the floor. Even when he carried her from the heads' room, he looked straight ahead, never at the girl in his arms. If he looked at her, really looked at her, it would make this all real. And he couldn't handle that. He didn't need to know that she looked dead, didn't want to know if he had hurt her so badly that she killed herself. He refused to believe it.

So, he counted the white tiles on the floor, fifteen across, twenty down. He counted them until he memorized each grain on them. He counted them until all he could see was white tiles covered in gray grain.

After a few minutes, whispers were heard behind the curtain, and then it was pulled back to reveal the Headmaster and Madame Pomfrey.

"Might I have a word with you all?" The Headmaster asked, motioning the students forward. They left the nurse to tend to Hermione and closed the curtain behind them. "Now, I understand that this is a very frightening time for each of you. As it is already four in the morning, I have excused each of you from today's classes." Dumbledore paused for a moment, taking the time to look at each student carefully in the dark before speaking again. "Now, you must be wondering about Miss Granger's condition. Madame Pomfrey has determined that Miss Granger has fainted from a mixture of exhaustion and dehydration. Do any of you know how long it has been since she has slept?"

"Eight days since she's slept," Draco said, his voice thick with remorse. He still could not lift his eyes off the floor. "Five days since she's eaten."

"Oh, dear. I am surprised she lasted this long." Dumbledore paused as everyone in the room reflected on this new information. "Nevertheless, Miss Granger will make a full recovery. However, her body will need to make up all the sleep she has missed. It is protecting her the best way it knows how, so she will be unconscious for several days. You may, of course, visit her during the designated times." Dumbledore's eyes lingered on Draco for a moment. "As for now, however, I suggest we all get back to sleep. But first, may I have a private word, Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry, Ron, and Ginny went back into Hermione's room as both Draco and Professor Dumbledore took a seat.

"Mr. Malfoy, have you thought at all about where you will be this summer?" Draco, assuming the Headmaster would be discussing Hermione with him, could only stare at Dumbledore in disbelief.

Draco knew how his summer would go. He would either become a Death Eater, or his father would kill him for his disobedience. Either way, it would not be a summer he lived through. The thought alone made Draco tense with anger.

Dumbledore continued without a response. "I ask because a few Aurors each summer take in a Hogwarts student, or two, and mentor them for the summer. They will teach you about the job, show you how to put what you have learned here to use outside these walls, and keep you safe. If they like what they see, there is a job opportunity at the end of the summer. I have already spoken to several students about this opportunity, Miss Granger included. Please take your time to think about this and we will discuss it at a later date."

Draco nodded and stood to leave.

"One more thing, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said. Draco turned. "The human brain is an amazing thing. It listens when the body is unconscious. It can convince us that what we need is not right or fair. It can manipulate us into feeling any way it wants. However, there is one thing it cannot do. It cannot falsify love. Try as we might, we cannot help whom we love. We can convince ourselves of anything but this one thing. Do you know why this is, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore paused but not for an answer. "You are not meant to fight it. This is the reason people find it so terrifying. They believe they are being weak by not fighting it, but nothing could be more courageous. It is a gift that doesn't come around everyday. It is such a pity that most take it for granted." Dumbledore moved his eyes back to Draco's face. "You must have no idea what I'm talking about," he continued. "However, as someone who has lived several lifetimes more than you have, may I offer you some advice? When you find love, however distant in the future it lies, never let it go. Goodnight, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco watched the Headmaster leave, stood, and walked into Hermione's room. He stood at the end of her bed and watched her for what seemed like years, never noticing the duo watching him through a crack in the curtain. He moved to the side of her bed and held her hand, deep in thought. Frustrated with being locked inside his head, he began to speak to Hermione, his eyes never leaving her motionless face.

"I don't know if you can hear me. I don't even know if I believe that talking to the unconscious can wake them. All I know is that I feel ridiculous and it's alright." Draco paused for a second to kiss Hermione's hand. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean for things to get so out of hand. I just panicked. I've never felt this way before and it scares me.

"But I've been selfish. All this time, I convinced myself that it was better for you not to be involved with me. All this time, I persuaded myself to stay away from you, to make you forget me. I thought you would be better without me. I put you in this Hospital bed, and for that I will never forgive myself.

"It's funny. I've spent all this time convincing myself that we should not be together, that it would be better for you if you were not involved with me. But, now, seeing you lying there looking like death itself… Well, maybe it's better if you are with me. I can't stand to see you like this and know it's my fault. And, well, let's be completely honest. You can't live without me now… And I need you.

"You know, I used to know exactly the direction my life was heading. I was going to turn out to be like my father. I would become a Death Eater. I would probably be one now if it weren't for you. And I can never thank you enough for that. Now I know that my father is the last thing I want to become. Now I have a future.

"And I've never liked change. I don't much care for surprises. But now, my entire world has been flipped upside down. Now, I can't picture my life without you. I don't want a future if you're not in it.

"I understand if you never forgive me for what I have done to you. Only, the thing is, I never make the same mistake twice.

"I don't care about my father. I don't care about my friends or your friends or what the entire Hogwarts population will say about it. All I know is… I love you, Hermione. And nothing else matters."

Draco sat there for a second in complete silence. He smiled very slightly, kissed Hermione on the cheek, and walked out of the room.

Harry and Ron stepped out of the darkness, having witnessed the entire scene. They gazed after Malfoy in disbelief before one of them finally mustered the strength to speak.

"He really does love her," Harry finally said.

"Do you really believe him?" Ron asked. Harry paused for a moment, still watching the place Malfoy exited, though he was long gone now.

"Yes," Harry replied. "I think I do."

"But it's Malfoy. He has done nothing but torment her for years. How can she suddenly forgive him of everything he's ever done, and not even think twice about it?"

"You know Hermione gives out as many chances as people will take," Harry responded. "She's wiping a blank slate. She's starting new. The past is irrelevant now."

"Do you really trust her in Malfoy's hands? He will only hurt her and we will have to pick up the pieces. How can you trust Malfoy to take care of her?" Ron asked, concern coating his voice.

"I don't trust Malfoy," Harry said. "But I trust Hermione. And she trusts Malfoy. She's right, it is her life. We don't have to agree with every decision she makes, but we're her best friends and if she's going to start dating Malfoy, she's going to need us to be here for her."

"How is this going to work? Malfoy hates us and we hate him. We have been very happy with the way things were before now. How can we be there for her when she's dating our sworn enemy?"

"We will figure it out. I care about her too much to lose her."

"This will be a rough end of the year," Ron sighed.

"Hey, no one said we had to spend time with him."

Harry and Ron stood there for a few minutes, lost in thought. Finally, Harry yawned and spoke up.

"Are you coming to bed?" He asked.

"In a minute," Ron replied, looking over at Hermione. Harry smiled and clapped Ron on the back before walking out and closing the curtains behind him.

When Ron was sure Harry was out of sight, he took the chair Draco had previously been sitting in and took Hermione's hand.

"Hermione," Ron said, not able to look at his best friend's face. "I know that I'm not the easiest person in the world to get along with. I know that I let my temper run off on me. And well… I'm sorry.

"I'm not big on words or expressing how I feel, but I figure that it might be alright just this once.

"I can see now that he really loves you. And you love him. That's bravery, if I ever saw it. It takes a lot of guts to say how you feel, especially when you know the entire wizarding world is against it.

"I'm sorry I didn't act like a friend. I'm sorry I turned away when you obviously needed me. I guess it takes something drastic pulling on the threads of friendship to test how strong it is. I'm sorry it had to come to this.

"I wasn't there before, but I'm here now. I don't like him. I will never like him. But you love him… and that's enough for me. I won't stand in the way. I trust your judgment. If you say he's good deep down, then I have to believe you. Because, Harry and I love you Hermione, despite everything. And I never want to lose that.

"But… just know, that if he ever hurts you in any way, I will not hesitate to pound the bloody hell out of him."

And Ron could have sworn that Hermione's face lifted in a slight smile.

**Author's Note: **AHHH! DON'T SHOOT!

I know, I'm so late with this chapter. I really didn't mean to wait this long, but I kept putting it off, and I had terrible writer's block which explains why this chapter is not the best I've written and why it's not the longest either.

Anyway, thank you for sticking with me. I have no plans to make the next update take this long!

And I do believe thanks are in order:

Zarroc

AmericanIdiot252

xcheerios

Hitsugi's Lover

XxDracoMalfoy'sGirlxX

Kwebbeltje

Avalonhighgirl

Caitlin

GothicaGirl-911

So, thanks again and don't forget to review! Next is Feed on Fear and Two Twisted Teens!

xDreamerx


	17. Love is a Burden

**Chapter 17—Love is a Burden**

Five days passed. It was getting to the point where Madame Pomfrey had to physically remove Draco from Hermione's side each night at closing time. Then, he would enter through the window, storing his broom under Hermione's bed. He slept in her bed, winding his arms around her non-respondent form, nestling his face in the crook of her neck. He slept, breathing in her sweet smell, and always made sure he was gone before the nurse woke and made her rounds.

On the fifth night of Hermione's unconscious stay in the Hospital Wing, Draco flew silently through the window by the light of the full moon. He soundlessly landed on the gray tiled floor, pausing and shooting the nurse's door a momentary glance. Being greeted with darkness and silence, Draco resumed his movements, tucking his polished broom under the veil of blankets hanging off the bed. He slid under the covers next to Hermione and his arms found their way around her. He kissed her neck and snuggled into the soft skin, breathing in her unmistakable scent. He began to lull off into a quiet slumber when he felt movement in his arms. Draco opened his eyes wide and found himself face to face with a pair of sparkly brown eyes.

"Draco," she whispered, her voice hoarse and raw from disuse. Her face lifted into a half-smile, but her eyebrows furrowed.

Draco clutched her face between his hands, needing to determine if this was real, or just a skillfully concocted dream. Her voice was sweeter than he remembered. Hearing her voice had breathed a little more life into him. Draco smiled once before pulling her face towards his and kissing her.

He tangled a hand in the bronze ringlets that framed her face and the other hand was on her cheek, crawling with desire to be closer to her. He felt one of her hands on his side, gripping his shirt, yanking him towards her. Her other hand was on his chest, soft and cradled between their bodies.

Hermione had forgotten his taste, forgotten how sweet his kiss was. Every cell in her body was screaming for her to pull him closer, though his body was already pressed against hers. She put her hand to the small of Draco's back and pressed him closer, the other hand tangling in his hair. Draco sent shivers of delight through her veins when he moved one hand to her waist. Her skin tingled when his hand came in contact with it through the opening in the back of her hospital gown.

It scared Hermione how much she wanted this. It terrified her how much it bothered her that there were clothes between them. She knew she was being selfish. After all, Draco didn't want her. He made that very clear by the lake so many days ago. He was probably just glad to see her awake. It didn't mean he loved her, didn't mean he wanted to be with her.

Hermione knew Draco would leave her. She knew that being this close to him when they couldn't be together would only hurt more than the first time. She almost didn't survive him leaving the first time. There was no chance of survival a second time. She was only causing herself more pain, walking willingly to her own downfall. But still, she couldn't bring herself to pull away. In that moment, she didn't care. If this was the last time she would have with him, she would take it and make the most of it.

So, she kissed him with a longing, with a passion she had never shown before. Her lips moved against his with an intensity she hadn't known she possessed.

After a few minutes, Draco pulled away and Hermione let him, feeling something break deep inside her. That was it and she knew it. Now she would have to take the heartache, take the anguish because at least she had gotten a proper goodbye this time. She untangled her hands from his body and couldn't bring herself to look at him, feeling that if she did, she couldn't stop the liquid pain from rushing down her cheeks.

"Wow," Draco spoke, the silence crushing under his quiet words. "You should go unconscious more often." He laughed lightly, but seeing Hermione's strained expression, the smile died on his lips. "Hey, I'm only kidding."

"Why are you still here?" She questioned, looking at the ceiling and trying to keep her voice from cracking. "I know you're going to leave, so why don't you just get it over with?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't want me. You made that very clear. Now, can you just go before I lose it?" Hermione replied, her voice quivering slightly.

_I don't want you to see me cry anymore,_ her mind said as she blinked back tears. _I don't want you to know how much you kill me._

Because, despite everything, Hermione didn't want to cause Draco any pain. She knew that he wasn't the unfeeling being she had once believed him to be. He wasn't the indifferent person he wanted everyone to think he was. And she knew that seeing her cry would only hurt him. All she wanted was for him to be happy, even if that happiness didn't include her.

"Damn that crazy old kook," Draco whispered.

"W-What?" Hermione asked, her eyes finally resting on Draco's. He smiled.

"Dumbledore told me that if I talked to you while you were unconscious, you would hear me. A load of cow dung, if you ask me, but I tried it anyway. I guess you couldn't hear me."

"You were here while I was asleep?"

"Every day," he responded without missing a beat.

"_Why_?" Hermione asked, looking at Draco as if he had just admitted to a passionate love affair with Snape. Draco laughed lightly, cupping her face.

"Because, silly girl, I lied. When I said I didn't want you, I knew it was blasphemy. I had to hurt you so you'd leave me alone. And I'm sorry." Hermione looked down, tears brimming her eyes. "Look at me," Draco said, forcing her eyes to his. "I convinced myself that it was better for you to be out of my life. The direction my predetermined life was headed, I didn't want you to be a part of that blackness. But now, everything's different. I'm not going to be a Death Eater, and I have you to thank for that. I was dead before you," he said, voicing the thoughts he had locked in his head for so long. "And you brought me to life. And I would never want to sacrifice that, not again. I was so stupid, but now I know what I want."

There was silence for a moment, Draco's whispered words resounding on the white brick walls. Hermione stared at Draco, as if trying to figure him out.

"What are you saying?" She asked, her voice barely audible.

"I'm _saying_, bring on the hurdles, I can handle them." He rubbed her cheek with his thumb, softening his gaze. "I don't care about my father or my friends or your friends or the entire Hogwarts population. I'll protect you from the inevitable storms that lie ahead." He kissed her lips softly just once before speaking again. "Hermione, I don't want a future if you're not in it. What I'm saying is, I love you."

Hermione's eyes spilled over, tears crawling down her cheeks. She smiled through them and spoke, her voice cracking.

"You do?"

"Of course," he replied, laughing. And he pressed his lips against hers, losing himself in another one of her head-spinning kisses.

As Hermione started to forget her surroundings, Draco pulled back slightly, eyes still closed as he whispered in her ear.

"But I hope you know, this doesn't mean I have to like your idiotic friends."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Draco crushed his lips against hers again and she forgot what she was about to say. It was a considerable amount of time before they stopped to catch their breath.

* * *

The next day, Hermione was finally allowed to leave the Hospital Wing, but not before she was forced to choke down the horrible mush the nurse had the nerve to call oatmeal. She immediately went to the Gryffindor Tower to speak with Harry and Ron.

Hermione quickly found the duo in the common room, playing an idle game of chess. She took the armchair next to them.

"You're out," Harry said, smiling. Hermione easily returned his smile.

"Yes, finally," she replied. Ron acknowledged Hermione with an upward glance, but continued in their game, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Hermione," Harry started, the smile all but disappeared from his face. "I think we need to talk about this. This Malfoy business, I mean."

Hermione sighed. She knew this was inevitable, but she couldn't help wanting to put off this terribly awkward conversation that could potentially hurt their friendship. She opened her mouth to speak, having no clue how she was going to explain herself, but was interrupted when Ginny came downstairs and noticed Hermione.

"Hermione!" She called, the cheerful redhead bobbing her way over to where the three of them sat. "You're free! How are you feeling?"

Hermione shrugged at Harry before answering Ginny, inwardly grateful at her friend's timing.

"I'm feeling better," she replied, smiling. "I'm still a little tired, but I'm starting to feel like myself again."

"And that's good?" Ginny asked, slightly skeptical. "I mean, isn't that the reason you got into this mess in the first place? Being too Hermione-ish?"

"Well then I guess I'm plain out of luck because Hermione is the only person I can be," she responded, her lips slightly pursed in anger. Her gaze softened slightly when she noticed Ginny's worried expression. "Gin, I'm fine, really. I got carried away with being Head Girl and the Hogwarts magazine and the balls…" Hermione's eyes widened in realization and she jumped out of the armchair so quickly that she startled Ron, causing him to knock over several chess pieces.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, picking up the pieces. He was stealing looks at Harry to make sure he wasn't noticing how Ron wasn't putting them back in the precise place they had been in. "You talk about being fine when frankly, I'm pretty convinced you're off your rocker…" Ron was rambling on, oblivious to how no one was really listening.

"The balls," Hermione whispered.

"What?" Harry asked, eyeing Hermione carefully.

"The balls!" She repeated, louder, pulling at the roots of her hair. "I forgot about the balls! There's supposed to be one this month and I have to plan for it! It's supposed to be this Saturday and nothing is done!"

"Hermione?" Ginny was trying to distract Hermione from the way she was pacing in the small space in front of the armchair, muttering to herself.

"There's so much to be done!" Hermione exclaimed. "I have to go!"

"But Hermione," Harry said, "we have to talk about—"

"Can't it wait? This is more important! I'll try to come back after dinner but I'm not going to make any promises. This very well might take me all night."

"Hermione, don't overwork yourself, okay? There is time for everything and I'm sure Dumbledore will understand if you need more time. Hermione!" Ginny half-screamed, breaking Hermione from the pacing and muttering. "Look at me. Stop. Breathe. There is time." Hermione nodded and took several deep breaths.

"I'll see you guys later," she said, still slightly hysterical but a great deal more calm. She exited the portrait hole.

"I swear," Harry said as soon as Hermione was gone. "Being Head Girl is going to be the death of her."

"No," Ron replied. "_She_ is going to be the death of her." Harry and Ginny nodded in grim agreement. "Checkmate," Ron said, smiling in satisfaction. Harry sighed.

* * *

Once Hermione arrived at the portrait for the Head's room, she nearly screamed the password at the painting.

"Well, you don't have to be so rude," the picture replied, before swinging open and admitting Hermione.

"Draco!" She yelled, scrambling to find the papers about the balls. "Malfoy get in here right this instant!"

Draco walked casually out of his room, closing the door behind him. He smirked at Hermione's frantic movements as he leaned nonchalantly on the door frame of the common room.

"Well it looks like your stay in the Hospital Wing was pointless after all. You're in about the same state that you left in."

"Oh shut up and help me! Do you realize there's supposed to be a ball this Saturday? That only gives us six days to plan! We've got to get a musical group to play, owl the prefects, set up the ball, inform the students, and set up a Hogsmeade trip, not to mention the magazine that supposed to be out this week mentioning the ball! We have to do everything!"

Draco walked over to Hermione and took her hands, leading her to his couch. He sat down and pulled her down next to him.

"What are you doing? There's no time to sit and talk!" Hermione told him, her eyes wide in panic.

"Hermione, stop. There is time. Breathe. Relax. Look at me." He tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Would everyone stop telling me to relax? How can I breathe when—"

Draco cut her off, putting his hand over her mouth and the rest of her sentence was a mumble of muffled words.

"Listen to me. I'm not completely useless. I'm not just here to look pretty. I booked the Wayward Wizards two weeks ago. They're a new group and haven't gotten very many gigs, but they're not completely terrible, even for my high standards. I have spoken to Dumbledore and the prefects, informing them of the ball. The prefects know to be in the Great Hall after lunch on Saturday to prepare the room. Dumbledore is announcing the ball tonight at dinner, and notifying the students that Hogsmeade will be this Friday, if they need new dressrobes or masks. And as far as the magazine, the articles are in and all it needs is your expert eye to edit it. It needs to be ready by Friday before breakfast. I expect you'll want to look it over two or three times, which will take you about an hour each time. Like I said, there is time. Too much of it in fact." He smiled, moving his hand from her mouth. She stared at him in awe for a few moments before she found her voice.

"You're amazing, do you know that?" Hermione told him, her mouth curving into a smile.

"So I've been told once or twice," Draco replied, causing Hermione to playfully swat his arm.

"Thank you," she said, earnestly. He only smiled in response and leaned down to kiss her.

"Now how are we to use up all this extra time we have…" He whispered, inches from her lips. He smiled to himself before claiming her lips with his.

* * *

The next few days for Hermione were filled with editing the magazine. She felt this one had to be exceptional, to make up for her absence. Draco was slightly irritated that all she seemed to want to do was edit the magazine or study for the NEWTs she was more than prepared for, but then, with a startling realization he remembered that this was Hermione. This was what she did. She would live in the library in Madame Pince would allow it, soaking in the books she had already read at least twice each. And he realized that this was what he had to look forward to. Because he loved her and couldn't imagine letting her out of his life now. And for the first time in his life, the thought of being tied to someone like Hermione didn't upset him in the slightest. In fact, it made him sickeningly happy.

Draco sighed from where he lay, wide awake, on his four-poster bed. Hermione had long since retired to her bedroom, and Draco was glad to see that she at least appeared to be taking better care of herself. However, the sky had begun to pale, the stars scattering into their daytime hiding places, and one quick glance at the clock on his bedside table told Draco that it was nearing four in the morning. He still hadn't slept.

It wasn't that there was anything wrong. No, he and Hermione were getting along fine. Well, for them they were. She still fought him incessantly about the simplest matters, infuriating Draco to no end. But, at the end of the day, they were petty fights. He was still Draco and she was still Hermione. And they loved each other, right? So the nonsensical arguments ceased to matter.

So, no, there wasn't anything wrong. It was quite the opposite actually. Things seemed to be calm seas as far as the eye could see. And, it wasn't that this was a bad thing. For the first time in Draco's life, his life was going good. He was, dare he think it, happy. He had Hermione again, and he loved her. He had nearly forgotten the troubles that plagued his mind only a month ago. The thoughts that drove him to cut Hermione lose from his life had turned to nearly transparent mist inside his head. But, still. He couldn't sleep.

It could never last.

This was the thought that kept him up. Yes, he was happy. Yes, things were going exceptionally well for him. But, as if this wasn't strange enough, he seemed to be deliberately making himself miserable. Because he knew enough of life at his mere seventeen years to know that something was coming. Something bad. The good times couldn't last forever. Things couldn't stay as pleasant as they had become in these past few days. It wasn't possible. It just wasn't the way life worked.

All of the sudden, Draco felt a strange protectiveness of Hermione. It that almost made him sick to his stomach.

_I've become what I used to mock mercilessly, _he realized. _I'm in _love, he thought, his mind feeling tainted at the taboo word. _This changes everything. Yes, I will never leave her again. I can't possibly… But this will only make things harder. If my father has taught me anything, it's that love is a burden. And while he was nearly out of his mind, he was, in a way, correct. Love is a burden. A gift, of course, but a burden as well. Not only are you concerned for your own well being, but another, almost more so than yourself._ _Yes, I would rather die that have Hermione feel any pain. But who could have thought I would feel this way? Draco Malfoy, cold-hearted bastard, in love? With bookworm Hermione Granger? It's almost laughable. _

_But of course, _he reasoned, snubbing the his father's voice in the back of his mind, _it's not like I have control over this. You can't help who you love, everyone knows that. And knowing Hermione, there's no one else who I could see myself with, as sickeningly sweet as that is. She is my equal. She's the challenge I've been looking for through this world that seems to pass me by in effortless waves. She's exactly what I need._

And, without meaning to, Draco was plunged into old thoughts.

_And she's exactly what could get both of us killed._

Now, he started to have doubts, once again.

_As long as this is kept a secret, no one has to know. It doesn't have to get back to Lucius and the Dark Lord. But Hermione doesn't deserve to be just a well-kept secret. She deserves to have the world know that I love her and that no one else could ever lay claim on what is rightfully mine. And, yes, secrets are dangerous. But, at least in most cases, isn't the truth more hazardous than a lie? Doesn't the truth generally hurt more than a fabricated fib?_

_My father would kill her. And I wouldn't put it past him to recruit other Death Eaters to help in "eliminating the distraction." I'm to be the Dark Lord's right hand man, a supposed 'blessing' for the hard work Lucius has put in serving the Dark Lord. But, I don't want it. I don't want any part of the Dark Lord and his schemes to kill a seventeen-year-old boy and take over the world. Honestly, it sounds like a bad villain from poorly written muggle comic books. _

_Hermione could be the one to save me._

_But it shouldn't be her burden. Yes, love is a burden, and I know that she wouldn't think twice about helping me because she loves me. But I don't want to put that pressure on her. She doesn't need to know that her life is in danger, because I will take care of it. Somehow. I will find us a way out of this and will look back on this moment of life uncertainty and laugh at how naïve I was._

_If only I could figure out how to get to that obscure moment in the future._

And Draco's eyes widened in realization. He jumped off his bed, pulling his robes over his pajama's and, oblivious to the time, he walked out of his room, across the common room, and exited through the portrait.

* * *

Draco paced nervously in front of his destination, debating with himself about whether or not he needed this. Whether or not it was too early in the morning to have this conversation. Whether or not he needed someone's help. Whether or not this would really help, or just cause more problems. Whether or not he could fall asleep if he were to just go back to his room and pretend the night's dark thoughts and memories were only a bad dream.

Sighing, he looked sternly at the statue and spoke with grave seriousness in his voice.

"Cockroach Cluster."

A moment of hope lingered in Draco as the gargoyle remained still. For a second he thought he had the password wrong, and was glad that he didn't have to do this insane thing he could never imagine himself doing. But this glimmer of hope was extinguished like a bucket of water over a flame, when the stone figure leapt aside, admitting Draco up the long winding staircase.

At the top of the stairs, Draco began to have doubts again. Did he really need this help? Was his situation this extreme that he needed to enlist the help of the Headmaster?

He froze in his pacing when he realized that yes, it was this bad. He needed help and no one could help him except the old man who lie behind the large oak door.

He knocked lightly, half-hoping that Dumbledore wouldn't hear the faint noise through the thick door. But, inevitably, there came his voice, sounding slightly strained and tired.

"Enter, Mister Malfoy."

Draco pushed the door open and closed it behind himself.

The room was just as it had been every other time he had been there. Strange objects lined the wall, objects that Draco wondered if even the wise old Headmaster knew their purpose. Beside Dumbledore's desk lay a tray with an assortment of strange metal objects that appeared to be humming as they admitted smoke into the air. And on the large wooden desk in front of the Headmaster lie the strange eerie glow of a pensieve.

"Headmaster," Draco acknowledged, sitting in a comfy chair before the desk.

"Ah, Mister Malfoy. I see you couldn't sleep either. If you will excuse me, I'll just put this pensieve in its proper place. Sometimes I find, if you can simply clear your mind, sleep comes much easier."

The Headmaster busied himself with storing the glass that contained his unfathomable thoughts in a wooden case resembling an armoire. Then, he walked slowly back, as if he had all the time in the world. By the lined and worn way Dumbledore was looking, Draco figured he had at most a handful of good years left. He realized with slight anger that these past seven years of protecting the so-called Boy Who Lived had taken its toll on Dumbledore.

"So, what can I do for you?" The Headmaster said once he was back at his desk. "Unless you have simply come for some company, in which case, may I offer you a cup of tea?"

"Er, no thanks, Headmaster," Draco replied, his hands wringing his robe in his lap. "I have come to, er, discuss some, um, _matters_." Draco struggled with the formation of his sentence and sighed with he finally completed it.

"Is that so? Well, what's on your mind, Mister Malfoy?" Draco felt Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes were mocking him and he found he had to look away. When he spoke, he was talking to his lap.

"Um, well…" Draco had trouble figuring out where to start. All he needed was a jumping off point. After a second of quick thinking, he found it. "About that Auror internship you were telling me about this coming summer… Well, I would like to accept. If it's still possible, that is."

"Of course! I may know the perfect place for you. They will be delighted to take you in."

"Great. Thanks," Draco replied, still wrapped in thoughts.

There was a long gap of silence in which Draco struggled with not blurting out in hysteria that his father was trying to kill him and that he needed to be kept hidden in a vault underground until his father ceased to exist.

"Was there something else?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes seeming to penetrate through Draco. Draco automatically stiffened and masked his face.

"Um, yes," he replied, talking slowly to prevent a mass break out of unintelligible words. "I was wondering… with this summer… and the Dark Lord…"

"Surely you know you'll be safe in the house of an Auror."

"Yes, well… I was hoping… in this special case… there could be more security measures taken… throughout the remainder of this year as well… At least until the Dark Lord, um…"

"Prevails or is destroyed?"

"Yes," Draco replied in a small voice.

"Well, Mister Malfoy, I assure you that all security measures are being taken."

"But, well, you see, the thing is," Draco replied, struggling with contradicting the headmaster, "they aren't." Draco sighed and looked Dumbledore in the eyes for the first time since his arrival in the office. "Headmaster, my father is a Death Eater. Surely you know this." If Dumbledore did indeed know this or if Draco was revealing a secret that could ultimately get him murdered, the Headmaster gave no indication. Draco went on. "He has been here. At Christmas, he breeched the security you have set up here and found his way into my room. He won't stop. He will use whatever means necessary because…" Draco took a deep breath. "Because I am to be the Dark Lord's right hand."

There was a distinct silence that followed Draco's words. He felt the Headmaster's eyes bore into his, but he refused to look away. He lifted his chin the slightest bit higher, as if in recognition of the burden the next few years held for him.

"I see," Dumbledore replied after a moment.

"But I don't want to," Draco continued, the words spilling out of him. "The last thing I want to do is become my father or have anything to do with that despicable excuse for a 'Lord.' I don't want to be a Death Eater. I just want to be seventeen years old and not have to worry that my life is in danger every second. And… the lives of those I love."

Draco could have sworn the Headmaster's eyebrows raised the slightest bit, but Dumbledore's face retained the same neutrality as always.

"Of course, of course," Dumbledore said, standing and walking over to where he had stored the pensieve. He swirled his wand in the liquid-gas substance. "You know, you are not unlike your Head of House. He, too, came to me in a moment of weakness, asking for help as you do now. It was that weakness that saved his life. Now, you know of the battles that lie ahead. It is difficult times that we all face in the very near future. It will test loyalties and strain the relationships of those closest to us. We must be strong and we must not give in, even when the grass may look greener on the other side. As you might already know, the greener grass is only an illusion, a skilled charade. Life is what you make it." Dumbledore turned around to face Draco, however the twinkling in his eye was slightly dimmed. "Regardless, we will protect you as long as you require it, as long as you let us."

"Thank you, Headmaster. Really, you have no idea what this means…" Draco trailed off, standing from his chair. It was then that Draco shot a glance towards the window and noticed that the darkness of night had passed and everything was bathed in the glow of a new day. He smiled slightly and looked back at the Headmaster. "Good morning," he said, starting to walk towards the door.

"Ah, yes, it is the start of something brand new. It never ceases to amaze me how in the morning light, everything looks different, how it seems to be a clean slate." Dumbledore paused to let his eyes sweep out the window. When he spoke again, he hadn't moved his eyes from the outside grounds. "Good day, Mister Malfoy."

When Draco arrived in the common room, he heard Hermione moving around in her room, getting ready for their classes. Breakfast was about to start. Hermione's door opened as Draco passed it to go into his room.

"Draco?" Came Hermione's small voice. He turned to see her clad in her uniform, hair curling softly around her face the way he loved. She was examining his expression. "Are you alright?"

Draco took her soft hand and pressed it to his lips, smiling as a faint blush crept up Hermione's cheeks.

"Yes, I'm alright. I am now," he replied.

"Let's skip breakfast and talk, okay?" Hermione said, wrapping her arms around Draco's waist, pressing her cheek into his chest.

"I'd like that," he told her honestly, pulling her closer to him. He bent down a placed a feather-light kiss on top of her head.

That was the thing he loved the most about Hermione. They could talk. They spent endless hours in the common room, just talking. She was unlike any other girl Draco had ever been with, in that she actually had a mind and cared about more than how the color of her hair accentuated her skin.

Draco smiled down at her and gave her a brief kiss before releasing her from his arms.

"Just let me get changed and then I'm all yours," he said and she nodded, walking to his couch in the common room.

Draco turned back into his room and closed the door behind him.

_Yes, _he thought as he changed from his flannel pajama pants into his school uniform. _Love is a burden. But sometimes, it's nice to have someone there to lift a little of it for you. Sometimes it doesn't feel like a burden at all._

**Author's Note: **Aw, fluff. This story has been getting very lovey dovey which is probably why I haven't written it in awhile. It's just too sweet. XD well, we all know the happiness can't last for very long, not in Draco Malfoy's life, at least. Again, I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I went through some very big changes in the past few months so it's been difficult to write, but now I'm back, writing most days out of the week. So hopefully it won't be forever until I update.

Next chapter is the ball and I'm pretty sure that this story is going to be done soon. I don't think I'm going to write the summer after they graduate, I'll probably just end it when they finish Hogwarts, but I'm still on the fence about that one. Thoughts, anyone? Should I write about the Auror internship or just end it in a few chapters? were prolly looking at about three more chapters if I write until they finish Hogwarts. But I don't know what I'm going to do. I kind of want to start a new story and just finish this one. It's kind of getting old. But I don't know. Tell me what you guys think.

Anyway, enough rambling. Let's do some thanks, shall we?

Merope Firpo--I hope you liked this chapter. And I know, I've been neglecting my stories. But I do plan to finish them, however long it takes me. I'm the kind of person that I can't leave anything unfinished, so don't worry, they will be finished. And thanks, I hope you liked Basketcase and If it Were You. They're my fav I think. And I hope I'm not sucking too bad, but I'm having fun and I think that's what counts, right?

haiylighGIRL

Mystery of the Night

bellcicle--wow, thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying it. Again, I apologize for the lateness in the chapter updates but this story is proving to be more challenging that Feed on Fear or Two Twisted Teens, so this one takes me longer to write a good chapter. And don't worry, this story will be finished. But thanks for reading and I hope you liked this disgustingly fluff filled chapter! XD

dragonlover333

Marguex

Zarroc

AmericanIdiot252

Naomiii

Thanks again and keep reading and reviewing!

xDreamerx


	18. The Shedding of All Disguises

**Chapter 18—The Shedding of All Disguises**

The week following Hermione's release from the Hospital Wing was fairly routine. The only exception was her relationships with Harry and Ron. Now that they were both in on the big secret that had been tearing Hermione up for months, she found that she didn't have to try so hard around them. Their friendship had become nearly as effortless as when they'd first met, when their biggest worries were about grades and teachers disliking them, not about love and which one of them wouldn't make it through the final fight with the Dark Lord.

Hermione was sure she wasn't the only one who constantly thought about that impending battle. To be perfectly honest, she had no idea how Harry went to class, and played Quidditch, and just functioned in general when he knew that in a little over a month, he would either die or become a murderer. It wasn't something she would be able to live with.

But if that thought was constantly swarming around Harry's already too full mind, he showed no indication. Maybe he was trying to make it easier on both Ron and Hermione. Or maybe if he let himself think for a tiny little second about what lie in his near future, maybe he would just fall apart.

With everything already planned for the ball and the magazine edited to Hermione's high standards, she even had time to go to Hogsmeade with Ginny that Friday. It wasn't Hermione's first choice of activities for the day, but Ginny reasoned that too much time in the castle was unhealthy. When Hermione countered that she also spend time on the grounds, now that the snow had disappeared, Ginny simply rolled her eyes and muttered, "just stop being so difficult."

As it turned out, Ginny was extremely interested in Hermione's semi-secret relationship with Draco. Hermione swore that she could actually hear brain cells popping at the superficial conversation.

"But, I mean, what's he _really_ like?" Ginny asked as they walked the daytime Hogsmeade streets. "He can't really be the way he is in classes, all snobbish and sarcastic and a complete prat. You would never want someone like that."

"I don't know, Gin," Hermione replied, inwardly groaning. She didn't have to suffer through this conversation with Harry or Ron. They wanted to know as little as possible. Hermione knew that they supported her decisions, but would rather sink back into the safety of pretending the relationship between their best friend and worst enemy never happened. "I don't know what to tell you. He's different behind closed doors. Nothing like how I expected."

Ginny, sensing her best friend's reluctance at the subject, dropped it at the sight of the newest dress robes in the window display. She issued a small squeal of delight as Hermione groaned and was dragged into the store.

"What color robes were you thinking of?" Ginny asked as they walked through an aisle that held every variation imaginable of the color red.

"I don't know, Gin. I don't even really need new dress robes. My other's are fine."

"Hermione," Ginny replied sternly, grabbing Hermione's hands. "Didn't your parents send you money for new robes?"

"Yes, but—"

"And is this or is this not your last year at Hogwarts?"

"Ginny, I don't really think—"

"And do you want me to be miserable for the rest of my days?"

"Honestly, you expect me to believe—"

"That's what I thought. So _stop being so bloody difficult!_"

Hermione sighed. There was no winning with Ginny. She let her overly enthusiastic friend go through the racks, every once in awhile holding one robe up to Hermione, muttering to herself all the while. After what seemed like an eternity, Ginny had narrowed the choices down to five different robes. She dragged Hermione to the check out desk where a young witch was reading a magazine, looking bored.

"Excuse me," Ginny said, holding the robes out to the sales girl. "She would like to try these on."

Hermione smiled sheepishly as the girl sighed in annoyance and took the robes. She led Hermione down a side hallway that contained no dressing rooms, only several mirrors on the walls. The girl whose nametag read "Wendy!" hung Ginny's selections on a hook beside one of the mirrors. Hermione gave her a confused glance as she looked from the girl to the mirror.

"Let me guess," Wendy said, boredom encasing her every word. "You're a muggleborn? You've never used a Dressing Mirror?"

"Er, no I haven't," Hermione admitted.

Wendy rolled her eyes and stood in front of the mirror, taking a dainty wand from her pocket.

"You stand in front of the mirror and point your wand at the dress you want to see on yourself." She pointed to the first dress robe, a soft pink. "Then you point at the mirror." She wasn't wearing the dress, but her reflection was. She waved her wand in a circle and her reflection turned, showing the back of the dress. The dress hugged Wendy's slender waist and was cut short to reveal legs that went on for miles. Hermione immediately decided that wasn't the dress for her.

Taking out her wand, Hermione stood in front of the mirror and the comparison between this bushy-haired girl and the silky-haired statuesque Wendy was embarrassing.

"Right. Thanks," Hermione replied and the sales girl left the room.

When she finally emerged, Ginny was sitting on a cushioned bench in the front, a Gladrags bag in her hands.

"So," the young Weasley asked, getting to her feet.

"The red," Hermione told her, holding up a satiny deep crimson robe.

"I knew it."

The Head Girl paid for the dress robe as Ginny showed her what was inside the Gladrags bag.

"My mother sent me some money also. Granted, I had to look in the sale items, but she understands what it's like to be a young girl. Besides, Ron doesn't realize he needs new robes until the hems are up to his knees." It was a metallic, silver-blue. "Flashy. Plus it matches my eyes."

"It suits you," Hermione laughed.

She knew how hard it must be for Ginny with six older brothers, and really, she couldn't blame her for wanting to stand out a little.

They walked back to the castle with their purchases, Ginny supplying the bulk of the conversation. This was why Hermione loved Ginny. Sure, she was observant, slightly shallow, and felt the need to butt into every aspect of Hermione's life, but other than that, being with Ginny was effortless. She didn't have to try as hard as she did around Ron and Harry.

Hermione suddenly felt a tear in her chest as she realized that in just a month and a half, she was leaving and Ginny was staying right here. Of course they would Owl, but it wouldn't be the same without Ginny's optimistically bright presence with her constantly.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks and it was a minute before Ginny realized and came bouncing back to where Hermione stood.

"What's the matter? Did you leave your purse?"

Hermione shook her head and pulled Ginny in for a hug.

"Thanks Hermione, but, um, what's that for?"

"You're my best friend," Hermione admitted. "Thanks for doing this today. Merlin knows I would have never gotten through this without you. This shopping, I mean."

"That's what I'm here for," Ginny replied casually.

There was a second that Ginny's smiled faltered the tiniest bit and Hermione would have bet money that her friend had come to the same realization that Hermione had, that it was ending, that this carefree time was reaching it's close. There was an eerie feeling in the air that everything was about to change and quickly. A month and a half and Hermione wasn't even sure who she'd be.

But, just as quickly as Ginny's smile faded, it brightened and she was herself again.

"Now, come on! We only have three hours before the ball starts!"

* * *

After much consideration, Hermione decided it wasn't the best idea for her and Draco to go to the ball together. Sure, they would be wearing masks, but Hermione didn't want to risk it. Hogwarts may be slow, but it wasn't blind. And there was only one boy in the whole school who carried himself the way Draco did, who wore the most expensive designer robes, who had that almost reflective silver-blonde hair.

Hermione had miraculously been able to convince Ginny to let her get ready alone. That is, after Ginny bombarded her with hair and make-up tips. And after Hermione swept on some make-up, magicked her hair into manageable waves, and slipped on the satin red robe, she was ready to head off for the ball.

Instead of risking Draco cursing one of her friends for taking her to the ball, Hermione picked a considerably more easy-going date. Ginny.

Ginny had claimed she was sick of 'the whole dating scene' anyway, but Hermione suspected it was because the flirtatious girl was between guys and wanted to scope out her options at the ball.

Hermione stepped out of her bedroom and into the common room where Draco greeted her with a smile that seemed to make her heart leap into her throat. She attempted to swallow to lodge it back in its proper place, but had no such luck, not with Draco standing in his trademark black robes, his hair slightly messy, looking at her as if he'd never seen anything more appealing.

"Hey," he said, slipping an arm around her waist. Before Hermione had a second to respond, Draco had captured her in a head-spinning kiss, pulling her as close as their bodies would let them. After a moment, Draco broke off, kissing her cheek and whispering in her ear. "You look unbelievable. You don't know how hard it was to resist sweeping you off your feet and taking you right back into your room."

"Sweeping me off my feet? Since when do you sweep girls off their feet?" Hermione asked a hint of teasing in her tone.

"It's been known to happen once or twice." Draco bent down to give Hermione a light kiss, before taking her hand in his and running the other through his hair. "Ready to go?"

_Damn, I knew there was something I was forgetting to do._

"Um, Draco? I was thinking that maybe it's not such a good idea for us to go to the ball together." Draco's gaze hardened slightly and Hermione grabbed his arms, placing them around her waist. "I mean, we never said we were going together anyway and I just think it's too much of a risk," she told him, her voice slightly muffled as her face was buried in his chest. "Yes, we're wearing masks, but who's not going to recognize you? What about all of your admirers?" Hermione risked a look up into his eyes, but they were focused on the wall behind her. "Please don't be mad. I'm not saying this in a bad way. I just… I think this night would be a lot better without added stress."

"Fine," Draco replied after a moment of silence. He took his arms from around her and picked up his mask from the couch next to him.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked as Draco fastened his mask in place.

"I'm making your night stress-free."

"Come on, Draco. Don't be like this. You're being ridiculous."

"Have fun," he replied and he walked out the portrait hole.

* * *

Since the ball had started at eight that night, Hermione had done nothing but sit at a table, rejecting offers to dance, while Ginny flirted shamelessly with a boy sitting next to her. Harry and Ron came to join them occasionally, Ron scolding Ginny for flirting with boys when she was too young to date ("Newsflash, Ronald," she told him, "I've been dating since I was twelve."). Harry continued to attempt conversation with Hermione but she wasn't in a talkative mood, more of a reflective, alone-time mood that was usually reserved for her journal (not that she'd written in it in four months) or her studies.

She knew that Draco wasn't really mad. By the time she got back to the common room, it would have all blown over and they would sit by the fireplace and talk. Or snog. This petty little fight would have been forgotten. Because Hermione was sure that this time he had to think about it would lead him in the same direction as Hermione. When Draco really thought about it, there was no way that he couldn't agree with Hermione, she was sure. It was just a matter of getting through the ball and getting back upstairs.

She would have left the ball a few hours ago if it weren't for the fact that she had been neglecting her friends lately and spending most of her time with Draco. It was difficult to fit someone new into this whole world she already had well before he had even been an option. So she stayed. And now it was just after 11:45 and Hermione was ready to call it a night.

"I think I'm going to turn in," Hermione told Ginny, Ron, and Harry, not realizing she was interrupting an argument between the two Weasleys.

"Are you feeling alright?" Ginny asked. "You've been awfully quiet all night."

"Just tired I guess," Hermione replied, getting up from her chair. "I'll see you all tomorrow. Quidditch tomorrow, right?"

"You're coming?" Harry asked, perhaps a little more surprised that he should have been.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. G'night."

As Hermione began to walk away, she could hear Ginny and Ron resuming their argument.

"Now, 35, that's a respectable age to start dating…"

Hermione exited the Great Hall and breathed a sigh of relief, and then someone grabbed her hand and began to pull her out the front doors to the castle.

"What the hell, let go of me!" Hermione yelled, trying to beat her capture's hand off of hers. He only sighed and turned to face her.

"Calm down, will you? I'm not trying to kill you or anything."

He proceeded to pull her outside and once the full moon lit up the darkness around them, Hermione noticed two things at once.

The first thing she noticed was that this boy was the mysterious stranger that she had met at every ball. The second thing was that he had strangely familiar silver-blonde hair.

"No," Hermione whispered as the boy stopped inside on of the outdoor gazebos and turned to face her.

Hermione couldn't believe she had been so thick this entire time. His voice, his clothes, his dancing, his eyes… It couldn't be, but all the signs pointed in one direction. Somewhere a clock was chiming Midnight, but Hermione was lost in the deep silver eyes that were opened deep down into his soul for the first time. His unguarded eyes watched her carefully, observing her reaction as she put two and two together, waiting patiently for her to make a move.

Unnoticed, the clock ceased and Hermione's mask fell carelessly to the ground. The boy carefully removed his mask.

"It's you," Hermione said, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

"You know, for the brightest witch of our year, you can be pretty thick sometimes."

"I wanted it to be you so badly. But the logical side of my mind said it couldn't. Draco Malfoy would never be so sweet, so nice…"

"Well, at least not when anyone's looking," he replied smirking. "See, that's the funny thing about the logical voice in our heads. It sees one-sidedly, yet it refuses to entertain the possibility that it's ever wrong."

"A sweet Draco Malfoy?" Hermione replied, raising one eyebrow.

"Stranger things have happened." Draco smiled the smile that always made Hermione's heart skip a beat. "And, now," he said, holding out a hand, "would you like to dance?"

Instead of taking his hand, Hermione buried herself into his arms, winding hers around his neck as he chuckled softly.

"I love you," she whispered, breathing in the intoxicating fragrance of his cologne on his chest. He simply lifted her chin up and kissed her, silencing any questions she may have had about whether he felt the same.

* * *

The next morning, Draco woke and attempted to stretch, but found that both his arms were occupied and extremely numb. He opened his eyes and looked down to see a slightly bushy-haired girl curled up in his arms. Instantly, he smiled and kissed her forehead. Her eyes flew open.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse.

"Hey," he replied.

Hermione stared into his eyes, trying to memorize each fleck of color as Draco tried to store each curve of her face into his memory. For some unknowable reason, they had dreamt the same dream, of the near future, of Voldemort's final return. Draco was betting on the fact that either of them very well might die, what with Draco switching sides, throwing the entire plan out of order, and Hermione being The-Boy-Who-Lived's best friend, being a muggleborn, and being the very thing that made Draco turn around and ruin the Dark Lord's plan. And Draco wanted to memorize her face so that he could recall it flawlessly in his last hour, if need be.

Draco was the one to break the silence.

"I was thinking…"

"Were you?" Hermione replied, teasingly.

"Yes, I was. About you and I."

"What about us?"

"Well, I…" Draco took a deep breath. "I don't see any reason why we have to keep it a secret anymore."

Whatever Hermione thought Draco was going to say, this was nothing close to it. Her eyes widened and it was a second before she found words and even longer before she could express them coherently.

"But I—you—we… What?"

"I think we should come out."

"Of the closet?" Hermione asked sarcastically, not taking Draco seriously for a moment. Draco rolled his eyes.

"No, I think we should come out to Hogwarts with our relationship. I can't think of any reason why we shouldn't."

"Well I can! I can think of a million!" Hermione exclaimed, twisting out of Draco's arms.

"Now I'm starting to think you don't want me," Draco replied, smirking.

"Draco, be serious! Have you lost your bloody mind?"

"No, I think I've found it. Think about it: the only reason we were keeping it quiet was because I cared about what everyone would think if I was seen with muggle-born, book worm Hermione Granger. But I don't care anymore. I couldn't care less. Let them think what they want. They are meaningless to me."

"First of all," Hermione replied, sitting up straight, "that's not the only reason we were keeping it quiet!"

"Really? And would you care to enlighten me about why we were keeping it quiet, since I obviously don't know why I do the things I do?"

"Um, how about the Death Eaters, your father, Voldemort, the future Death Eaters at Hogwarts, and the entire Hogwarts population, just to name a few," Hermione replied, ticking names off on her fingers. "You're not the only one who has a reputation to uphold."

"Oh Merlin, what will people think when they find out goody-goody Hermione Granger is dating evil Draco Malfoy!" Draco replied sarcastically, scowling.

"Come on, Draco. You're _Head Boy_. And, it's not… I just want to end the year on a good note. I'm about to be first in our class and I'm Head Girl, and I… I just don't want people's memory of me to be tarnished."

"So, I _tarnish_ your image?" Draco retorted, standing up from the bed.

"Draco, you know I didn't mean—"

"Look at the facts, Hermione. We're leaving here in a month and a half. A month and a half. And then, who the hell cares what happens here?" Draco began to pace back and forth while Hermione watched him from on top of his bed. "We're getting out and going straight into a bloodbath! Do you think people are really going to give a damn that you dated me? Do you really think people are going to spare you a thought? They don't even care about you! Who the hell cares what they think?"

"I do," Hermione replied, quietly.

"Oh dear Merlin. You're seventeen years old, Hermione. You're a god damn adult now. When are you going to start realizing that these shallow, fake people don't matter? When are you going to start living your life yourself?"

"You're right."

"And, honestly—what?" Draco stopped his pacing and looked at Hermione.

"I said you're right. Now stop that ridiculous pacing and get over here," Hermione replied, holding out her arms for Draco. He sat down beside her and slipped an arm around her. "Of course you're right. You're always right."

"Can I get that in writing?" Draco replied, slightly smirking. Hermione shot him a half-hearted glare and then sighed.

"I'm just scared. About the Death Eaters, about Voldemort, about everything."

"I know. Me too."

"Can I get _that _in writing?" Hermione joked, trying to ease the mood. Draco scowled.

"Listen, it doesn't matter. They already know. Lucius already knows. It's pretty pointless trying to keep something from them. They always have their ways."

"They already know?" Hermione squeaked, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"Yes. But I'll keep you safe. I'll even walk you to all your classes if you like. And I'm sure your friends Pot-head and Weasel can suffice when I'm not there. They have managed to scrape past Voldemort himself once or twice." Hermione shot him a glare. Draco chuckled.

"You know, if you're going to be involved with me, you're going to have to stop being so rude to my friends. They're all I've ever had. And they've always accepted me, no questions asked, no regrets." Draco's eyes hardened.

"They may have known you longer, but you saved my life once I grew out of my father's shadow," he replied, darkly. "And I love you more than they could ever even understand, no questions asked, no regrets."

"Draco… You don't have to like them, because Merlin knows that's never going to happen in this lifetime or any other. But, please, for me. Don't be so hard on them."

After a minute of staring forcefully into Hermione's eyes, Draco sighed and his gaze softened.

"Fine, as long as I don't have to like them, I'll ease up a _little._ But they've got to get used to the fact that I'm not going anywhere." Hermione smiled and eased herself into Draco's arms.

"I like the sound of that."

There was a long moment of silence before Draco broke it once again.

"So, lunchtime? Shall we come out with it?"

"Draco…"

"Hermione, look at me," he replied, forcing her chin up to meet his eyes. "The bottom line is, like it or not, we're leaving in a month and a half. Then nothing that happened here will matter. We'll be shoved off into the real world where no one cares who had the best gossip or who won the most Quidditch or who dated who. It's all ending here, so what does it matter if everyone knows about us? I don't care about my reputation or yours. There's only a month and a half left in the only place I've ever been able to call home, my comfort, my security. I want to spend this short time with you and not have to hide it. No regrets, remember? I don't have anything to apologize for. I love you, and no one else really matters to me."

Hermione sighed as she looked into his eyes.

"You promise we'll be careful, though? Like, body armor during Quidditch careful?"

Draco smiled before claiming her lips with his. And just as Hermione began to lose herself in this kiss, Draco pulled back slightly.

"I knew I would win," he said, his lips curving upwards into his trademark smirk. And before Hermione had the chance to protest, Draco pulled her towards him in another kiss. It was a considerable amount of time before either of them remembered the Quidditch match.

* * *

"So, I take it you're cheering for Gryffindor?" Draco asked Hermione as she walked him to the Slytherin locker rooms.

"Well, naturally, I'll have to sit on the Gryffindor side, but I'll be rooting for both of you."

"Hermione, you can't cheer for both teams. That defeats the whole purpose."

Hermione frowned and Draco took a quick look around to make sure no one was near before planting a kiss on her pouting lips.

"Good luck," she told him. "And, I know you're a Slytherin, but please, for once, try not to seriously injure any of the Gryffindors."

"Quidditch is a brutal game. I don't make any promises," Draco replied, smiling. Hermione glared and put her hands on her hips. "I'm only kidding. This is the last game, my last game playing on a real team for probably the rest of my life. I want to go out with dignity."

"Thank you," Hermione responded, before giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Mmm, thank _you_," he replied, pulling her in for another kiss.

"Oi, Malfoy!" They heard from across the lawn and immediately broke apart.

"Good luck!" Hermione repeated before ducking through the side bushes to the Gryffindor locker rooms.

"Hermione?" Harry asked as soon as Hermione was visible through the bushes. She blushed automatically and began to pick leaves out of her hair.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, hiding in bushes?" Ron asked, snorting.

"No, _Ronald_, I was not. It just so happens that the Slytherin locker rooms are on the other side of these bushes," Hermione replied matter-of-factly. Harry's face fell the slightest bit and Ron shifted uncomfortably.

Hermione enjoyed the fact that Ron and Harry liked her to keep that part of her life quiet, as opposed to Ginny who wanted to gush over every detail, but she was starting to get annoyed by them. They acted as if nothing had happened, and she knew they would have preferred it that way, but this was a major change in her life and it wouldn't kill them to acknowledge it. That's when Hermione realized that it would be a relief to come out with their relationship at lunchtime because she was tired of shoving it under the rug, of covering up her tracks.

"So, I take it you're going to be cheering for Slytherin?" Harry asked quietly.

"I'm going to be cheering for both of you," Hermione repeated, smiling.

"Hermione, you can't cheer for both sides. That defeats the whole purpose." Hermione's smile grew as Ron repeated Draco's exact words only moments before.

"Well I never really got Quidditch to begin with, so it really doesn't matter much, does it?"

Ron rolled his eyes and Harry smiled.

"Well, we've got to change for the match," Harry told her as they turned to walk into the locker room tent.

"Wait," Hermione said, biting her lip in nervousness. "There's something I need to tell you guys."

"Oh, Merlin not again. What is it this time, you're having an affair with Snape?" Ron asked sarcastically. Harry poked him in the ribs.

"Go ahead, Hermione. We're listening."

"Well, Draco and I have decided to come out with our relationship to Hogwarts. At lunch today, actually. We don't want to have to hide it anymore. And, really, what does it matter what they think? The only people I care about already know. Anyway, I think that it's going to be really hard on me. I have a feeling people aren't going to be very nice. So, I was hoping that you guys could help me out."

Ron's mouth was slightly agape, but Harry, who had changed and grown up so much in the past year, was surprisingly understanding.

"Sure, Hermione. What do you need us to do?" He asked her calmly.

"You mean you're okay with this? I thought you would say I was crazy and would give me to the clutches of Hogwarts."

"Well, I still can't say that I agree with your relationship, and I can't see why you guys won't wait a month until you leave Hogwarts, but it sort of makes sense if you think about it."

"Well, we know that Draco's father already knows about us. And if he does, then—"

"—Voldemort already knows," Harry finished for her.

"Exactly. He's coming anyway. And soon. We want to be together while we can, because… well, there's not exactly any guarantees in this. And why not have a united front?"

"Hermione, you know I don't expect you to—"

"Harry, you're my best friend. And I love you. Both of you. There's no way I'm letting you do this by yourself. I knew what I was getting into when I became friends with you. And I've lasted six years. Don't you think I've got another year in me?"

"Hermione, please, this isn't like the other times. It's going to be really dangerous."

"Like the other times weren't dangerous? Listen, Harry, I'm not going anywhere. I don't intend to for a very long time. We're doing this together, and I won't take no for an answer."

Harry broke out into a weak grin and by this time Ron had composed himself.

"Well good luck, then. You're going to need it. You're about to make a lot of enemies," Ron told Hermione.

"I don't care about that. All I care about is Draco, and you two, and Ginny. The rest I can take. With your help. So, will you help me?"

"With what?" Ron asked.

"Just looking out for me and things like that. I reckon I'm going to get it worse from Draco's _admirers._" She rolled her eyes. "And if things get bad enough, I might need two body guards to escort me to class and stuff when Draco's not around."

"I'm sorry to say it, but Malfoy's name sounds horrible coming out of your mouth," Ron replied and Hermione rolled her eyes again and waited for an answer.

"Of course we'll help you," Harry replied. "Right Ron?" He poked Ron in the ribs again to get his attention.

"Ouch! What? Oh yeah, right. We'll help you."

Hermione smiled and shook her head at the two.

"Thanks, guys. It really means a lot for me that you'll be there for me in this hard time." She pulled them into a hug.

"Alright, this is getting too mushy for me," Ron said after a minute, pulling away and looking slightly pink at the ears.

"Well good luck out there you two. Make us proud," Hermione told them, still smiling. And her two best friends, the best friends in the world she was thinking at that particular moment, disappeared behind the crimson curtain that waved to her in the wind.

**Author's Note:** Again, sorry for the long wait for this chapter. A lot has been happening in my life, but hopefully I'm back on track with these stories. Also, Masked Denial is reaching it's end! I'd say it's got maybe two or three more chapters in it. It's kinda sad, isn't it? But I'll still be working on Two Twisted Teens and Feed On Fear until those are done.

Anyway, Thanks:

AmericanIdiot252--I hope you forgive me again for this lateness, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! There's a lot of fluff, but I wanted to make sure that Draco wasn't all changed now that he's in love, that he's still the Slytherin Bastard we all love him to be, so I tried to make them fight in this chapter. Hopefully it was okay. Thanks for reading!

jnjnorris--I hope you liked the ball and just the chapter overall. Thanks for reviewing and keep reading!

Marguex--Thanks for the suggestion. I've actually already written the ending to this fic. I do that with every story I write, I write the ending like in the middle of the story, lol. Hopefully you guys will all like the ending, but I'm not giving anything away, so you'll just have to wait and see! Thanks for reading.

JenJen10143

ebm56 --Thanks! I hope I didn't change Draco too much once he realized he loved her. I don't buy that who, guy-changing-from-a-bad-ass-bastard-into-a-nice-guy-cuz-he-found-his-true-love bullshit, so i tried to make him not change so much. Thanks for reviewing and please keep reading!

And thanks to everyone else. Thanks for reading, all of you, and bearing with me through my unpredictable updates. Next is FOF and TTT, so keep reading and reviewing!

xDreamerx


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